Golden Age
by youcantseeus
Summary: The Golden Age was one of the happiest times in Narnian history, but even great Kings and Queens have trouble dealing with love, loss, and parenting. [Het, slash, femmeslash].
1. First Love

**AN: In this story, the Pevensies get married or have children during their reign in Narnia. There is no piece of canon that says that they _didn't _do these things and I thought that it would be interesting to examine how their different personalities handle relationships differently. This fic will be multi-chaptered, with each chapter divided into four parts, one for each Pevensie. The four parts of each chapter take place at roughly the same time period. This story does not follow the timeline, but is otherwise canon compliant. It contains (or will) heterosexual, homosexual, and lesbian relationships. It pairs the Pevensies with various OCs. Feedback is appreciated! **

**Disclaimer: Narnia and any characters that you recognize were written by C.S. Lewis. Various characters are my own creations. **

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Chapter One: First Love

_Peter_

Peter was eighteen and convinced that he was in love.

Her father was one of the most prominent of the new Narnian lords. For some reason, the various creatures of Narnia insisted on elevating any new human who came into Narnia to the rank of Lord. Peter was unsure why; he had told them over and over that there was nothing special about humans. Peter had found that it was easy to make commands but it harder to get a concept that was unfamiliar to his subjects to stick. People are generally set in their ways.

From the very beginning, Lord Patrim was one of Peter's favorites of the new nobility. For one thing, he was older than most of the others and it was nice to have an older man around to advise him and for another, Patrim didn't put on airs. He had been one of the first to come into Narnia from the islands and he had brought little with him other than his seven daughters. It was quite a remarkable thing, for a man to have seven daughters and no sons and Patrim's ranged in age from young women to tiny girls, much younger than Lucy. At first Peter had barely noticed Patrim's third daughter, Ethnee, who was very quiet, but as time went on, he began to see that she was a remarkable girl.

Ethnee was one of the most beautiful women at the Narnian court, with perfect blonde curls, big blue eyes, and a delicate frame, but men didn't flock to court her as they did with many girls with only half of Ethnee's beauty. Peter thought that this was because she was so quiet and demure. She always kept her eyes downcast, obeyed her father without question, and was perfectly polite and not a bit forward. Peter liked quiet girls; he himself had always been quiet and reserved before being a King had forced him to be at the center of everything.

This was why Peter was having dinner with Lord Patrim that night – to ask his permission to court Ethnee. Of course, he had to ask Lord Patrim. There was a proper way of doing these things. As much as Peter liked Lord Patrim, having dinner at his house was always a bit nerve-wracking, though they were, of course, honored to have the High King in their home and tried to make him comfortable. Patrim's second daughter, Kiara, kept giggling and talking to Peter in the way that he had learned meant she fancied him. His eldest daughter, Marna, was glaring daggers at Peter, though he had no idea why. Occasionally, however, Ethnee would shoot him a shy smile and Peter would feel that it was all worth it.

At first, Peter felt much more comfortable when he and Patrim were left alone in the man's study. Patrim lit a pipe and began to talk to Peter about affairs of state, but Peter could not concentrate long enough make intelligible conversation and he was sure that he must sound quite the idiot. He was not sure why he was so nervous; surely any man would want his daughter to be married to the High King, but Peter knew that Patrim was protective of his daughters and not as impressed as many with Peter's title.

"Sir, I've been meaning to ask you – I've been meaning to ask if I could court Ethnee," he mumbled. He was the King of Narnia, but right now, he felt so awkward and unsure.

Patrim puffed on his pipe while he thought this over. "Well, I can't say that I'm surprised, Your Majesty," Patrim always tacked the "Your Majesty" onto the end of sentences, almost as an afterthought. "I've seen how you look at Ethnee. I have to say that I wish it were Marna – she's so boyish and she tends to scare her suitors away. Or perhaps Kiara, she could use a good, solid young man such as yourself. Ethnee is so young."

"No younger than me, Lord!"

"No younger than you in years, it is true, King Peter, but infinitely younger in other ways. Ethnee has always been close to home, always protected by myself and her older sisters. She is a sweet, loving girl, but she has never known what it is to have responsibilities or expectations placed upon her. I fear that if she ends up marrying the High King, it will all be too much for her."

"If we were to get married," Peter said the phrase with barely concealed excitement, "I would make things easy for her. I would never want to place too much strain on Ethnee"

"I know that you would not, but it would be a strain, all the same."

"I won't court her if you say no, but I wish that you would at least consider this."

Patrim sighed. Peter knew that it was probably the sign of a good and caring father, that Patrim was reluctant despite the fact that Peter was High King, but it was also maddening. "I know that you are an honorable man, son," he puffed. "Well, it won't be up to me. Have you spoken to Ethnee about this?"

"No, sir. I thought it the proper thing to come to you first."

"Of course you did," he blew out a long stream of smoke and Peter thought that he sounded almost disappointed. "You are both very young."

He called for one of his servants and told him to fetch Ethnee. When the girl came in and offered Peter a small smile, his felt his heart leap. He hadn't asked Ethnee to court him, but they had become friends and Peter thought that she had some idea of his intentions. At least, he hoped so.

Patrim didn't delay, but immediately took his daughter's small hand in his rough one. "Ethnee, King Peter has asked to court you. Would you like this?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed blushing, "yes, please, Father."

Peter felt so relieved. He wanted to kiss her, but she already seemed so terribly embarrassed, that he refrained.

_Susan_

Susan was seventeen and very frustrated.

She was proud of her pretty face and figure and she liked wearing the latest fashions. She was always gracious and sociable with all her subjects. It wasn't as though she had _asked_ for the young men to look at her in the way that they did. No one was more surprised than she, when, around a year or two ago, she rather suddenly acquired more suitors than she could keep track of. She simply didn't understand why so many people looked at her disapprovingly. Why, every time a young man's eyes strayed to her breasts, she got a stern look from Peter or a jealous one from Lucy.

Why was it so wrong for her to enjoy the attention, anyway? It wasn't as though she had ever actually slept with a man. Although, if she wanted to have sex, she certainly didn't need _Peter's_ permission. Susan's frustration did not show on her face as she danced with her suitors at the ball that night. All they saw was that Susan looked particularly beautiful that night, with her flushed cheeks and her dazzling smile that she flashed freely. She bristled with annoyance, but she wasn't called Susan the Gentle for nothing and she saw no reason why her mood should affect those around her.

One of the young men, Alberic, was particularly charming that night. He was a bit more enthusiastic and naïve than Susan usually liked, but he did have a wonderful smile and he could dance better than almost anyone she had ever known. As he twirled her around she felt remarkably free and she thought that she should allow herself to have fun more often, no matter what people thought.

"Come to my room tonight?" Susan whispered playfully.

Alberic's eyes grew as wide as saucers and he almost lost his step, but he nodded. Susan laughed and held out her hand to be kissed.

-- --- --

Susan found that once she came to the act, she was terribly nervous, but when Alberic kissed her face, her neck, her breasts with great enthusiasm, she forgot all that in the pure pleasure of it. She had never been kissed like this before. Sometimes she allowed one of her suitors to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek or even a brief kiss on the lips. This was a different experience altogether. She finally understood why everyone seemed to be so eager for it.

"Susan," Alberic breathed, pausing to look into her eyes, "Susan, I love you."

Susan merely laughed and gave him a playful swat on the nose.

_Edmund_

Edmund was fifteen and confused.

He had always had trouble making friends and getting close to people. It wasn't that he was friendless, it was just that his relationships never seemed to run as deep as with other people. Lucy, for example, always seemed to take these things so much more to heart than he did. He supposed it paid off in the end, because she formed such deep bonds people, but he could never manage it. This was why his friendship with Cade was so extraordinary. Cade seemed to understand him so perfectly and Edmund found himself wanting to spend all of his spare time with the boy.

One evening found the two young men stretched out on Edmund's bed discussing matters of utmost importance.

"You know, Edmund," Cade said, patting Edmund's stomach affectionately, "if you don't lay off the sweets, then you will grow terribly fat and whatever poor woman has to marry you will be most disappointed."

"Then she shall have to divorce me," Edmund declared, laughing.

"Divorce you for your piggishness!" Cade exclaimed as though he liked the idea. "I still can't believe that the woman is allowed to divorce the man here. In my old country, that never could have happened."

"You saw that law book the same as I did. Besides, it's only fair, isn't it? Not to mention very sensible." Edmund scratched his chin, becoming the serious, knowledgeable King that so many people knew.

"Well, it was very amusing to see the expression on that old man's face when you told him that it was perfectly legal."

"Perhaps he shouldn't have been so obvious about his philandering if he didn't wish his wife to divorce him."

"Aw, Edmund," Cade moaned, "let a chap have a bit of fun, won't you? That old hag would have scared even the virtuous man away from her bed."

Edmund was suddenly very irritated. "You _would_ say that." The one bad side about being around Cade was that he was always bragging about his latest woman. And he had a rather crude sense of humor. Edmund was never really sure why it irritated him so badly. Perhaps it was because he was a couple of years younger than Cade and not nearly so experienced.

"Oh, don't look so sour. I didn't mean to offend your virgin ears."

This, of course, annoyed Edmund even further and he turned his back to Cade.

Cade threw his arm casually across Edmund's stomach, trying to get him to turn back around. "Really, Edmund," his voice was more serious, "I hate it when you're sore at me." His fingers absently danced across Edmund's stomach.

"Have you ever been with a woman, Edmund?" Cade's voice had become uncharacteristically soft. Edmund's breath was ragged. It was such an odd question to ask at that particular moment. He wasn't sure why he was reacting to Cade in this way. It was as though his body understood something that his mind had only begun to comprehend.

"You know I haven't. Now say whatever teasing thing that you're thinking of and get it over with."

"Have you ever been kissed?"

Edmund sighed in frustration. This conversation was starting to become truly tiresome. "You know that I kissed Lady Alise at the Midsummer Festival. Is all this so you can brag about how many women you've been with _again_? It's getting horribly tedious, Cade. I'll freely admit that you know more about kissing than I."

Cade's fingers were now touching Edmund's stomach in a more deliberate way that made the young King thoroughly uncomfortable. "I do love kissing," he laughed, dreamily, "it's the women that are such a hassle."

Edmund's breath caught and Cade now easily turned him over so that they were facing one another. When he looked in Cade's eyes, he saw that they understood each other perfectly. Cade pressed his lips against Edmund's neck, softly, as though testing out the taste of the flesh. Edmund reveled in the sensation, but when Cade's kisses began to grow more enthusiastic, the magnitude of what they were doing hit Edmund.

"Oh! Oh, no – stop," he stammered, pushing Cade away from him. "I can't. I'm always the one messing up. If we were caught – I just don't want to mess things up again."

"Edmund . . ." Cade breathed. Edmund looked into Cade's bright blue eyes made all the more striking by his dark hair and he understood why so many women had given in to his charms. Edmund knew, with a flush of shame, that he was lost.

_Lucy_

Lucy was fourteen and beginning to notice boys.

Normally, she didn't care one whit about her dresses or her hair. She would sigh impatiently when Susan fussed over which dress she should wear to which function and she would swat her ladies-in-waiting when they tried to do her hair up in elaborate styles, preferring to wear it down her back or in simple braids like a girl. Lucy _was _still half girl, but she was much closer to womanhood than her siblings and most of her subjects seemed to assume. When she was younger, she had only felt pride and sisterly happiness at Susan's scores of suitors, but lately she had begun to feel jealous. She wanted men to look at her in the same way that they looked at Susan. Of course, she felt terribly guilty, both for being jealous of her sister and for being jealous of her sister because of _that_. She only wished that everyone wouldn't think of her as so young and innocent when she was so clearly growing into a woman.

For the last couple of weeks, Lucy had mainly wanted one young man, in particular, to notice her. She and Lord Roydon had become great friends over the past few weeks and Lucy wanted more, she wanted to be kissed and courted and worshiped, but she was entirely unsure of how to make this come about. Still, when she knew that she would see Roydon that day, she put on her loveliest dress, the one that looked best against her golden hair, which Susan always told her was her best feature. She wore her hair down, but allowed the dryads to put some flowers in it. Of course the downside of this was that everyone immediately noticed how made up she was. Susan smiled and commented in the rather patronizing way that both Lucy and Edmund hated that Lucy was certainly growing up and Edmund teased her about the "weeds" in her hair.

Usually, Lucy would have taken this good naturedly, but on this day when she was trying so hard to be both grown up and inconspicuous about it, she snapped at both of them. When Lucy saw Roydon that evening she was already half humiliated and sure that he would know that she had dressed especially for him. Still, she was somewhat encouraged when he politely asked her if she would like to go for a walk on the beach.

As they walked, Lucy felt very awkward and couldn't think of anything to say, although there was usually an easy manner between them that encouraged conversation. For the first time, it seemed important that Roydon was almost two years older than her. She suddenly felt very stupid for thinking that he could care for a child like her in _that_ way. Roydon didn't seem to notice her anguish, but babbled on and on about the latest tournament. Lucy was usually able to follow tournaments better than many ladies, but on that walk, she could only nod where expected and pretend to follow what he was talking about. Roydon also seemed to have something on his mind and after a few minutes, his nervous prattling died away to nothing and they walked in awkward silence.

After a long time of this, Roydon grabbed her by the shoulder to stop her and they faced each other in somber silence. Lucy's could hardly breathe when she looked into Roydon's large, hazel eyes and his perfect, if serious, features. "Queen Lucy," he said, scratching the back of his head, "you and I are good friends, aren't we?"

"Yes. Well, I like to think so, anyway." Lucy took a deep breath and felt hopeful. Then, she remembered a friend saying that the best way to get a man to notice your bosom without being to obvious was to breathe deeply. She immediately stopped breathing. She was embarrassed to think of a man looking at her bosom.

Roydon sighed in apparent relief. "Then you won't mind if I ask you something? A favor?"

"Of course not," Lucy said sincerely, forgetting about her hopes for a moment and thinking only of helping a friend."

Roydon hesitated as though unsure.

"Really, Roydon," Lucy said, warmly, placing a hand on his arm. "You can ask me anything."

"It's about your sister."

"My sister?" Lucy asked, the blood draining from her face.

"Yes. Queen Susan. I, uh, want to court her. But she has so many suitors and I'm a little younger than her, you know. She would never notice me. But I thought that if _you_ sang my praises a bit . . ."

Lucy wanted to leave. She wanted to lash out at him. She wanted to cry. But any display of emotion would not only be embarrassing, it would be unfair to him. He hadn't given her any reason to hope. This wasn't his fault.

"I'll speak to her," Lucy said, huskily, trying to keep her voice from betraying her.

Roydon grinned broadly and his beautiful smile only made her feel all the worse. "Thank you so much, Lucy," Lucy wished that he would use her title. That would make this easier. He kissed her on the cheek, which was something he had never done before. Lucy gasped. "You are a sweet friend," he said.


	2. Moonlit Proposals

**Chapter Two: Moonlit Proposals**

_Peter _

"You make me feel as no one has before," Peter said to Ethnee, as they stood in the castle's courtyard one night. The moonlight was not particularly flattering to Ethnee's looks – she was not that sort of beauty. Ethnee looked best in the sun, when the warmth heightened her rosy features and her smile echoed the day's cheerfulness. Still, Peter thought, she was plenty beautiful, even in the moonlight. He kissed her lovely, full lips, but after a moment, she drew away. Ethnee was always reluctant to give all but the most chaste of kisses. Peter knew that this was the best, but sometimes he felt nearly overcome by his passions.

"I feel that way too, Peter," she whispered, blushing and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are always so kind and chivalrous to me. You – you are so different."

"Will you marry me?" Peter asked and was surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth. He hadn't planned it this way. He had wanted to ask Ethnee to marry him, yes, but he had planned to wait a little bit longer to be sure that he got everything just right. He had wanted to ask her father and to buy her a fine gift and to take her on the small lake near her home where they had first kissed and propose to her in the little boat. He was never this spontaneous! Peter didn't know what had come over him.

Ethnee put her hand to her chest and stepped back, unsteadily. Peter was afraid that she was going to swoon and he steadied her gently and helped her sit down on a bench. One of the things that he liked best about Ethnee was that she always seemed to need his help and protection. Ethnee enhanced his best qualities – his bravery and his chivalry. Peter took her small hand gently in both of his, concerned that he had upset her.

"Oh – oh, Peter. I – I wasn't expecting this."

Peter felt himself blush with embarrassment. "Well then. Er, forget I said anything." He drew away from her, but she caught him by the tunic with unusual force.

She seemed rather startled by the boldness of her action. "I don't think that I want to forget, Peter," her voice was filled with tenderness. Peter thought of what a good little wife she would make. He tilted her head up and kissed her tenderly.

_Susan_

"You are such a _bore_ sometimes, Alberic," Susan groaned, rising from her bed in frustration and walking over to a mirror to pretend to fuss with her hair. Her hair was very long by now and could be done up in any number of styles. The current trend was to twist the hair quite unnaturally, high atop the head. Susan always had her hair fixed perfectly and even now, after the night's exertions, there was barely a strand out of place.

"You must be more practical," she went on, "it's all very well to talk of love, but now is not the time to be married. I'm not even eighteen yet and I'm not ready." She explained all this with a bit of impatience in her voice, but she thought that she could be excused for this. Alberic was constantly hinting that they should be married and she had told him no time and time again.

"Many women younger than you are married," Alberic objected. He always seemed entirely unable to understand Susan's feelings on the subject. "I just thought that perhaps the news of King Peter and Lady Ethnee would cause you to start thinking of things of this sort a bit more."

Susan sighed. If anything, Peter's announcement that he intended to marry Ethnee, made  
her even less eager to take Alberic's proposals seriously. Susan saw the way that her brother looked at Ethnee and she knew, deep down inside, that she didn't have that with Alberic. A conversation that she had held with Edmund deflated her enthusiasm for Alberic even further. Edmund had reminded her that none of them were quite sure yet how consorts in Narnia would be treated in regards to status. Would they also become Kings and Queens of Narnia or would some lesser rank be bestowed upon them? It was very well for Peter to take a wife – and Ethnee was little threat -- but a Queen of Narnia must be more careful, Edmund had said without ever mentioning Susan in particular. Marrying incorrectly could possibly diminish her own influence with her subjects. Susan thought that this sounded very sensible and she was quite impressed with her little brother. Edmund had always been the most levelheaded of her siblings when he wasn't letting some petty emotion get the best of him.

Susan turned to face Alberic, completely nude, the moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains illuminating her form. Susan looked lovely in the moonlight, and she knew it. It always made her dark shine and her fair skin take on an almost ethereal quality. "You're upsetting me," she said, smiling at Alberic, "must we talk about this now?" She allowed her eyes to wander up and down his body. Alberic was really a marvelous looking man.

Seduction nearly always worked, but tonight, Alberic was having none of it. "Perhaps you don't want to speak of it because you would rather be with someone else," he muttered, his eyes narrowing. "You certainly still flirt with other men."

"You – you – how dare you, you petulant child!" Susan said loudly. "I've never been with anyone but you!" She felt tears come to her eyes. Susan always sensed that she was being blamed for something that she didn't do. If she were really a loose woman, it would be different – then she would merely be paying the price for having the fun – but even when she was a virgin, people had thought her a tramp. The men were lustful, the women jealous.

Susan pulled on her undergarments, not taking time to fully lace them up, and began looking for her robe.

"Susan!" Alberic said, softening. "Don't cry! Really, dear, I didn't mean it."

"You didn't mean it!" Susan asked choking on her tears and putting on her robe. "I'm leaving."

"This is your room. And you shouldn't be wondering about the castle at night in your state of dress. I'll leave." He got up, lazily from the bed and began looking for his clothes.

Susan had never intended to leave the room dressed as she was, but hearing the possessiveness of Alberic's words convinced her otherwise and she turned and walked out of the room.

"Susan!" her lover called, but of course he couldn't follow – he was still naked.

She was immediately calmer and soon stopped crying. She hadn't really been _that_ upset anyway, just angry at Alberic's attitude. He was so uninteresting and impractical – Susan used to think that it was impossible to be both of these things at the same time, but somehow Alberic managed – and on top of this, he had developed a jealous, possessive streak that made Susan wonder if it was time to end their affair.

It was late and the castle was nearly empty, save for a few servants meandering about who looked at the spectacle of Queen Susan wandering around the castle in her night robe in disbelief. It wasn't that it was so very shocking to see a woman doing this – it was just that Susan always took such time to fix herself up before leaving her chambers. Susan went to a balcony on the second floor that overlooked the throne room that she liked to visit on sleepless nights. She always imagined being able to sit up here, unnoticed, and observe the goings on of court. It must look grand, from up here, when the throne room was full and she and her brothers and sister were seated upon the dais.

As Susan looked down on the throne room, she noticed that there was, of all things, a man sitting in her throne. He was lounging with his head titled back, his legs thrown over the arm of the throne, and his feet resting on the arm of Lucy's throne. Susan had no idea how he could have gotten past the guards. After studying him for another moment, she realized that he was studying her also.

"Sir," she said, trying to make her voice imposing and disdainful, "the Queen's throne is not a lounge chair. Get up immediately."

He obeyed her and hopped to his feet, walking toward her so that he was soon standing almost directly below her. Susan saw that he was probably several years older than she with a mane of shaggy blonde hair and a rather impudent smile. As he moved closer, his grin became even cheekier and Susan didn't like the way his eyes moved up and down her form. She was used to men admiring her form, but this went beyond that. This man stared at her as though he could see right through her garment – as though he knew what she looked like underneath! Susan pulled her robe closer to her body.

The man bowed to her. "I'm sorry, my lady," he said, innocently, "I was merely admiring the lovely stonework. It is – what – five hundred, six hundred years old? Carved by genuine Narnian dwarf masons, I believe?"

Peter or Edmund probably could have told him all about the stonework, but Susan really had no idea how old it was or who carved it. She didn't, however, need to let him know this. "Yes," she said, stiffly.

He laughed at her. Susan was not used to being laughed at. "How did you get past the guards?" she asked.

"Those two old centaurs standing outside? Why I merely walked through the door, straight between them. They were either asleep or blind."

"Don't be ridiculous," Susan said, irritably.

The man gave her an exaggerated bow. "It has been enchanting, Queen Susan, but I really must be going."

Susan's mouth dropped. "You knew who I was all the time! Why you – you – come back here!" Susan yelled, as he began to walk away. "Sir! Sir!" The man didn't turn back and he was soon gone.

Susan huffed in frustration. She turned and found that a wood nymph, apparently a servant, was standing in the hall, watching her. "You," Susan said, with much more force than usual, "who was that man?"

The creature jumped at Susan's uncharacteristically harsh voice, but she answered. "That's King Torim, Your Majesty."

"King?" Susan asked in surprise.

"Yes, The King of Terebinthia."

"Why haven't I seen him before?"

"He arrived just this evening, Majesty. You have – ah – been cloistered up in your room with Lord Alberic since early afternoon," this was said with an apologetic glance. Everyone knew about Susan and Alberic and it bothered Susan to no end. Tonight, however, she wasn't terribly upset.

"Ah, yes, Alberic," she said faintly. "I must get back to him."

_Edmund_

"You don't understand, Cade!" Edmund said in exasperation. "You didn't hear what he was saying about Susan!"

"Susan's a grown woman, Edmund. Everyone knows that she's already with Alberic. I say that she'll do what she likes no matter what some pitiful excuse for a King says."

Edmund flushed in anger. "Well, this pitiful excuse for a King may just punch that Torim fellow in the face."

Cade blinked in surprise. "I meant him, not you, silly. But I am surprised at you, Edmund. I always took your brother to be more the overprotective type."

Edmund frowned. "He is. Believe me, if he knew this – well, never mind. It's not really Susan having a lover that upsets me, it's the smug look that was on that man's face and what he said – that he would soon bed her – it was so disrespectful!"

"You worry too much."

"Yes," Edmund mused, a bit irritably "perhaps I need to stop worrying about Susan's lovemaking and begin some of my own." He locked eyes with Cade at this moment and realized his error. He hadn't meant the statement in _that_ way, he had merely thought that perhaps he needed to begin courting, but Cade grinned broadly at him.

"Are you propositioning me, King Edmund?" he asked in delight. Edmund sighed. There had been several encounters between them since that first on Edmund's bed a few months ago, but they always occurred spontaneously, as though each were only for a night rather than part of a long lasting relationship. It meant that every time they were together Edmund faced the same moral dilemma. Each time he felt the same guilt and regret and the feeling that if he had just had a stronger will, he could have resisted this temptation. He knew that Cade still loved women, but was mostly content that he at least no longer spoke of them in Edmund's company.

In the end, he couldn't stand to say no to Cade.

Edmund stopped pacing about the castle garden and went and sat down near the young man. They kissed briefly. Cade seemed to enjoy his willingness; usually it was Cade who made the first move, Cade who had to convince Edmund. Edmund couldn't master his doubt, however.

"We shouldn't – it's wicked," Edmund whispered, more out of habit than anything else.

"Wicked?" Cade asked and Edmund saw that for once he wasn't being sarcastic or smarmy, but rather sounded curious and almost dreamy. Edmund shivered. The moon had just come up and in the moonlight, Cade's features always took on a look that almost scared Edmund, especially on the rare occasions when he was serious. There was something very cold about him – and not as though he was trying to be that way on purpose, but rather as though it was the natural state of his features. Cade was a somewhat rare breed. He wasn't one of the humans who had come to Narnia since the defeat of the White Witch, but one of the few men who had lived in Narnia prior to her reign. He had been turned to stone and was technically much older than the seventeen years that he claimed. On nights like this, Edmund wondered if he was entirely human. The aloof perfection of Cade's face and form reminded Edmund entirely too much of the water spirits and earth spirits that he had seen in Narnia. Cade never talked about his past and Edmund never asked.

A moment later, Cade was back to his same old jovial ways. "Wicked … wicked … wicked …" he mused, drawing out each word as though he had never heard it before. Edmund rolled his eyes. "If it's wicked then we simply must do it more often."

"I'm serious, Cade," Edmund said, but he smiled.

"I don't know where you came by this idea that it was so wicked," Cade yawned, "but I find it very tiresome."

"It _is _wicked. It's so wicked that people can't even speak of it in polite company."

"I never took you for the type to care so much about what people think."

"I'm not," Edmund muttered, "not usually, anyway."

Cade brought his hands to both sides of Edmund's face and kissed him gently. Edmund pulled away. "Anyone could see," he breathed, but there was a note of excitement to his voice. The danger of being caught was half the fun – ever since he was a small child, Edmund had always had a taste for the forbidden. Not, particularly because he enjoyed doing things that were wrong or bad, but because he liked testing the boundaries. He liked to see how much he could get away with. Since he came to Narnia, however, the excitement was always accompanied by a gnawing sense of fear and guilt. Edmund would always remember how quickly and how far things could get out of hand.

By now, Cade knew what Edmund liked. He placed a hand over Edmund's chest. "Your heart is racing," he whispered, then he grinned and before Edmund knew what was happening, they were kissing again.

_Lucy_

"You have been acting very peculiar lately, Lucy," Susan said, glancing over her shoulder at her sister, as she sat, brushing her hair at her mirror.

Lucy sighed. Of course, it _would_ appear that way to Susan. Her barely suppressed jealousy and her desire to at least be a good friend to Roydon, if he didn't want her to be more had given her what must seem to be unusual mood swings whenever she was in Susan's presence.

"I don't know why you are on about this Roydon fellow, anyway. He simply isn't my type at all. He always has his head in the clouds. And you know I'm with Alberic," Susan rolled her eyes as she spoke Alberic's name.

Lucy took her sister by the hand and looked at her sincerely. "But I know that you don't love Alberic – Su, it's so obvious that you don't – don't you want to be with someone who you can love?"

Susan frowned and pulled away, looking as though she hadn't really even thought of it all that much. "Well, yes, I suppose. I don't think that I could love this Roydon, though. If, _if_, I wanted to try someone else, I should want someone who was more down to earth than Alberic, not less. Besides," Susan finished with a titter, as though trying to cheer Lucy up with a joke, "Roydon's not even that handsome."

Susan's words, of course, had the opposite of their intended effect on Lucy. Lucy felt so rejected by Roydon and now here was Susan saying that he wasn't even that handsome anyway! "He is too handsome!" Lucy exclaimed, "Much handsomer than Alberic or half the idiots who court you! And he's smarter than them. And nicer. And – and –" Lucy dissolved into tears and threw herself down onto Susan's bed.

"Lucy!" Susan said in amazement, rising to comfort her sister. She looked down at Lucy and seemed to realize, with growing amazement, what was wrong with the girl. "Oh, Lucy, Lucy. You're sweet on him? I didn't know …" Lucy looked up at her sister through tear-filled eyes. There was moonlight streaming through the windows and Susan always looked gorgeous in the moonlight – and Lucy always felt even paler by comparison. Especially when she was red-cheeked and puffy-eyed from crying. Lucy began to weep again.

"There, there," Susan went on, stroking her hair like a mother, but when Lucy looked up at her sister, she saw a sort of half-smile on her face. The sort of smile that said "how cute, Lucy likes a boy". It was unbearable.

"Oh go away!" Lucy spat, viciously, "you don't know what I feel like!"

Lucy could tell that Susan wanted to give her sisterly words of comfort. To tell her that she understood completely and that every girl gets rejected now and again. The only problem was that it wasn't _true_ and they both knew it. Susan had never been rejected by a man.

"Come now, Lucy," Susan said, "there are plenty of boys who would be glad to court you. I've seen young men looking at you before – I just didn't know that you were interested in looking back yet."

"I haven't seen anyone looking at me in that way."

"Oh, but they do," Susan said confidently, "you just seem so young and innocent and pure that I think they afraid to say anything. I shall have to teach you how to flirt. Peter's dour looks probably help scare them off as well. Why, if you let me teach you, you'll soon have a whole score of suitors."

Lucy raised her eyebrows in alarm, her tears now mostly gone. "I don't think that I want a whole score. I just want him. I can't help it – I just want him."


	3. Advice

**AN: I would like to state that the section headings of "_Peter, Susan, Edmund or Lucy"_ do not mean that a section is entirely from that character's point of view. What it does mean is that a section is _about _that character. This chapter is much longer than the previous two, although I think the next will be shorter. Thanks to all who left reviews for the last chapters and reviews for this one are appreciated. **

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Chapter Three: Advice

_Peter _

"How do I look?" Ethnee asked her older sister, Marna, fussing with her curls and smoothing her wedding dress.

"You look just like a porcelain doll," Marna replied smiling at her. "I wish that mother were here to see how lovely you look right now."

Ethnee felt tears come to her eyes. She had been emotional all day and Marna's mention of her mother, who had died over five years ago made her feel terribly sad. "I wish that she were here too," she said through her tears. "I wish that Kiara were here." Kiara, the sister who had been closest to Ethnee in age, had recently married a man from the islands.

"Don't cry Ethnee!" Marna exclaimed. "It's your wedding day. You should be happy."

"I am happy," Ethnee said, smiling through her tears. "But it seems horrible in a way. Kiara has left for the islands and we shall probably rarely ever see her and now I'm getting married. Soon, we shall all be married and spread all over the world. All my dear sisters."

"You'll always have me, dear sister," Marna said with a joking tone to her words, "for I intend to be an old maid."

"Oh, don't say such things, Marna! You'll find someone."

Marna turned away from her sister. "Who said that I wanted to find someone to marry? Now, listen to me Ethnee," Marna took her sister by both hands and Ethnee felt she was in for a lecture. She didn't much mind; she missed having a mother and liked it when Marna gave motherly advice. "You mustn't let Peter misuse you just because he is King –"

"Oh Marna, please don't. I know that you dislike Peter, but –"

"This is important, Ethnee," Marna looked her straight in the eye. "I would say it no matter who you were marrying because you are such a gentle, timid little thing. You mustn't let him misuse you just because he's a King, but mostly you mustn't let him misuse you just because he's a man."

"He would never do such a thing, Marna! Why, Peter is the most chivalrous boy I know. He's – he's …"

"He may be, but don't depend on him to chivalrous; depend on yourself," Marna hugged her tightly. "And now I must leave you alone, dear," she sighed and before Ethnee could frame her thoughts, Marna had given her a sisterly kiss on the forehead and was gone. Ethnee called her attendants to help fix her veil and soon forgot Marna's gloom in the excitement over her wedding.

--- -- ---

Peter paced across the width of the bridal chamber trying not to look at the nervous, trembling girl in the bed before him. When he had pulled back her veil and looked into her beautiful blue eyes, he had wanted her so badly that he could hardly think straight. Now, however, Peter was unsure of how to proceed. The trouble was that Ethnee looked so vulnerable, so breakable. He had never been with a woman, but whenever men discussed such things (and they often didn't in his presence), they always spoke of _taking_ a girl's virginity or of _possessing_ a woman or _having _her. They always spoke as though it was somehow harmful to the girl or as if it made her less. Peter certainly didn't want to _take_ anything from Ethnee. He loved Ethnee.

For the first time, he noticed how much _bigger_ he was than she. Ethnee was short and delicate of frame, while he was quite tall with broad shoulders and obvious muscles. He approached the bed slowly, as though she were a wild animal that would bolt if he made any sudden movements. Peter sat down beside his wife, not looking at her.

"We don't have to do it tonight, you know," he said with some difficulty, though the idea sounded better and better to him as he went on. "There's no rule that says it has to be tonight."

She didn't answer for a long moment, but presently, she rose up so that she was resting on her knees, turned Peter's face gently towards her own, and kissed him. Peter could feel her lips and hands trembling. "I'm your wife, Peter," she said simply, when she broke away from him. If there was one way in which Peter and Ethnee were alike, it was in their sense of duty, their desire to do what was required of them.

She drew him down onto the bed and soon all sense of reason and thoughts of honor were gone, replaced by the sheer beauty of her eyes, her lips, her breasts, her skin.

"Thank you," he said to her when it was over, feeling a bit awkward. She didn't reply.

_Susan _

"What do you think?" Susan held up the dress that she intended to wear to the Christmas ball up for her sister's inspection.

"Oh – Susan …" Lucy hesitated and Susan could tell that she didn't like it. Lucy could never lie. "It – it looks expensive," Lucy offered.

"It's the most expensive dress I've ever had made," Susan informed her. "Those are real sapphires on the bodice. The Christmas ball _is_ the most important of the year and this is a dress fit for a Queen."

"It seems a little extravagant," Lucy admitted. "I think that you look best in a simple white silk. You're so elegant that you don't even need all these frills and trinkets. Besides, it isn't even _fashionable_. You are usually so stylish, Su."

Susan frowned and smoothed the beautiful gown. She could still change her mind if she wished – the Christmas ball was over three months away – but she had been so excited about the dress. "It isn't the current fashion in Narnia, it is true, to sew the jewels directly onto the gown, but in other parts of the world it is quite stylish."

"The only place where I've ever heard of women wearing so many jewels on their dresses," Lucy said shrewdly, "is in Terebinthia."

"It is because they are all bloody pirates," came a voice from Susan's doorway, "and the spectacle of a woman covered in loot is about the best sight in the world for them." Both girls started and turned around, but it was only Edmund.

Susan scowled at her brother. "Don't you think that you a getting a little old to come barging into ladies' rooms unannounced? Even you sister's? What if we had been undressed?"

Edmund raised his eyebrows. "I hope that you would not be undressed when your door is standing open like this."

Lucy laughed, but Susan scowled at him again and turned her attention to the dress, pretending that he wasn't in the room.

"I was very surprised to learn that King Torim was coming back to Narnia so soon after his last visit," Edmund commented, pretending to inspect his fingernails. "Do you have any idea why he would do this, Su? I can't think that it would have anything to do with diplomacy."

"I don't know why you think _I_ should know anything about it."

"Oh, do stop it," Lucy said, addressing both of them. "We all three know that Susan got that dress because Torim sent word that he will be spending Christmas here and we all three know that he's coming back for Susan. But Susan," Lucy continued, "are you so sure that you want to impress Torim so much? What about Alberic?"

Susan twisted her hair a bit guiltily. "What about Alberic?" she asked Lucy.

"Well aren't you –" Lucy stopped and lowered her voice, "aren't you sleeping with him?"

Edmund rolled his eyes and Susan blushed. She decided to change the subject. "I didn't think that either one of _you_ cared much for Alberic," she commented.

"Alberic tends to come off as a bit pathetic," Edmund told her, "but he is a thousand times preferable to this Torim."

Lucy took her hand gently. "The only complaint I ever had with Alberic is that I thought that perhaps you didn't love him. Do – do you love Torim?"

Susan was unsure of how to answer this question. "I'm not sure if I love him yet, but I feel – I feel …"

"Enthralled?" Edmund suggested.

Susan started, surprised at the aptness of the word. "Yes, I suppose that enthralled is right." Really, she thought, Edmund and Lucy were right. Torim didn't deserve her attentions. He was often rude and insolent, even to Peter and though he had made his interest in her known on several occasions, at other times he would act completely indifferent to her. This was very different from most of Susan's suitors (and she still had many, despite all the rumors about her and Alberic) who would make fools of themselves all day for a few of her smiles.

The next thing Edmund did rather shocked Susan, for it was not something that her little brother was prone to doing often or freely. He hugged her. "I'm afraid that I can't trust King Torim, Su," he said sincerely, "I've told you my reasons several times. I shall to keep an eye on him, but will have to otherwise trust in your judgment."

Oddly, Susan wasn't annoyed with him. She hugged him back, thinking that, on rare occasions, a brother's affection was even better than a suitor's.

_Edmund _

"It won't work, you know," the young Lord flung his hair back, insolently. Peter watched him with growing impatience. "You think that I've corrupted your brother and that you can fix him if I stay away, but _I _have always enjoyed the company of young ladies. It is Edmund who won't even look at them."

Peter ground his teeth, trying very hard to keep his temper. He always tried to keep his temper when dealing with his subjects, but sometimes it was particularly difficult. When the first report had come to him about Edmund and this cheeky Cade, he hadn't believed a word of it. He had dismissed the story as scandalous lies meant to impugn his family's honor. He had practically accused the bearer of the tale of treason! The second time that the rumor was brought to him, from a different source, he had been more troubled, but had convinced himself that it couldn't be true. Edmund wouldn't do something so base and why on earth would he even _want_ a man in that way? It wasn't as though there were any shortage of ladies for him to kiss, if he liked.

The third time the rumor was put to him, it came from person whom Peter considered to be very reliable and who had witnessed them kissing with her own two eyes; his wife. Ethnee had fidgeted nervously while telling him and said that she was unsure if she should say anything at all, but that she thought it best that he knew because perhaps he could say something to his brother to stop it – for Edmund's own good, of course. Peter had stewed with anger inside at his brother; the last time that he had felt so disappointed and betrayed by him was when they first came to Narnia – but Peter didn't even like to think of that. He hadn't let his anger show, however, for he had learned that Ethnee hated, above all things, when people were angry. He had merely kissed his wife on the head and assured her that she had done the right thing.

Peter chose his words to Cade carefully. "I really feel that I better try to do something about this … inclination … of King Edmund's while he is still young enough to influence." He was very careful to say "King" Edmund, for he felt that there was something in Cade's manner that was disrespectful of both Edmund and himself.

"You could try beating it out of him," Cade suggested amiably, "shall I fetch the whip?"

That was most definitely rude! Not only that; something in Cade's voice gave the comment a certain lewdness. Peter involuntarily brought his hand to his sword hilt and Cade stepped back, alarmed for the first time. After only a moment, however, Peter regained control of himself and sat back down in his throne. "Don't be ridiculous," he said evenly, "Your manner has convinced me that your removal from Cair will have an immense effect on my brother who is sometimes particularly susceptible to bad influences." He frowned as he said this. Peter hated to admit it, even to himself, but his statement was utterly true; Edmund _did_ fall under bad influences with remarkable ease.

"You mean to banish me?" Cade cried, for the first time dropping his derisive mannerisms and showing real panic. "But I've done nothing that is against the law!"

"I don't mean that you should leave Narnia entirely, only the immediate vicinity of Cair Paravel, where Edmund would be likely to see you on an almost daily basis. Perhaps western Narnia would suit you? Or the south?" As Peter was making this speech, he was growing increasingly alarmed by the expression on Cade's face. The young Lord was becoming quite pale and looked as though he may even be sick.

"I grew up not three miles from this castle! I've never traveled farther than fifteen miles from Cair Paravel in my life! You cannot ask this of me."

This took Peter aback. He had not expected this degree of resistance. "You needn't worry," he said, shifting uncomfortably, "I shall provide for your traveling expenses and you shall have the best horse in the kingdom to go wherever you like." None of this appeared to cheer Cade in the least and Peter was at a loss. Most young men, especially ones of such a fickle disposition, would be more than tempted by the High King providing for their adventuring, but Cade was unmoved. He had expected the only resistance to come from some sort of professed affection for Edmund, but that was obviously not a problem.

The two young men stared at each other for long moments, almost in a battle of wills. Finally, Peter spoke again. "I'm afraid that I must strongly urge you to leave. I _will_ think of my brother's best interest."

Cade turned even paler and shook with more anger than Peter believed that the situation warranted. _He _should be the one who was angry. When Cade spoke, his words were rash and filled with hatred. "I was here before you, Peter Pevensie," he said and Peter started to hear himself addressed in such a way, Cade had apparently abandoned all pretense of respect, "and I shall be here after you." With this, the young man turned on his heel and walked away.

--- -- ---

The four Kings and Queens always ate breakfast together and, with a very few exceptions, they weren't joined by anyone else. Even Ethnee was usually excluded from these meals. Edmund sometimes wondered if they were wrong to leave Ethnee out, but as these breakfasts were the best time for discussing what each other really thought of matters of importance in the kingdom with no one else present, and as Ethnee wasn't a _Queen_, he saw the sense in it. Besides, Peter seemed to have no problem with it. They had indulged in these meals since the very beginning of their reign and Edmund had always liked them, though he was often the last of the four to arrive. He always had more trouble waking up in the morning than his brother or sisters.

This was why Edmund was very surprised to find, after waking up a full half an hour late, that when he arrived in the apartment where they usually took breakfast, Lucy was absent and there was no food on the table. The moment they noticed him, Peter and Susan stopped whatever they were talking about and turned their full attention on him. Edmund realized that he was in for what he privately always thought of as an "ambush".

Peter and Susan seemed to still think it their duty to reprimand their younger brother and sister – particularly Edmund – and they often waited until a moment when they could both pounce on him. Edmund had certainly walked into this ambush easily. He sat down at his regular place at the small table and resigned himself to being told that he had hurt Lucy's feelings or offended one of Susan's beaus or damaged a priceless antique. He was surprised when neither Susan nor Peter said anything to him, but merely looked grave. He began to imagine that this was perhaps more serious.

"Well, what is it?" he asked finally. "What's up?"

They still seemed unable to speak, but Peter, Edmund noticed, was very pale and was clasping his hands together tightly, as though to prevent some emotion. "You talk to him, Susan," Peter said finally," I can't." His voice conveyed so much anger, disappointment and worry that Edmund began to feel quite afraid.

Susan hesitated for a moment longer, giving Peter a sidelong glance, but she finally took Edmund's hand and spoke. "Ed, I – I – don't quite know how to say this, but you have been seen having very … intimate … contact with one of the young Lords here at Cair."

Then, of course, Edmund realized what this must all be about and he felt himself blush bright red. He looked down at his hand, held in Susan's on the table. Susan was studying him closely and he realized that if she had harbored any doubts, he must have just given himself away.

"Well," Susan breathed, "well, well."

All three were silent for a moment, as though unsure of what to say next.

"I didn't think that it was so very important," Edmund ventured, at last, "it didn't seem relevant to anyone but me."

"Relevant? Relevant!" Peter burst out, as though unable to restrain himself. Edmund realized that he had not been speaking in an effort to keep his temper. Peter didn't lose his temper often, but he did it was dreadful; righteous, stern, and unyielding. "I suppose that you didn't have a thought as to how such a relationship would affect your good name or your family's reputation or our position as rulers! I suppose you never thought of moral standards or decency or – or –" Peter trailed off, making a frustrated hand gesture, as though too disgusted to go on.

Edmund could have said a lot of things at this point. He could have brought up how Susan's flirtatiousness and her apparent indiscretion with Alberic were affecting the family's reputation. He could have said that Peter's meek little wife was _not_ the best choice of consorts for a High King. He could have said that the four of them were so well liked that nothing short of a disaster of nation-altering proportions would threaten them now. However, Edmund didn't say any of this because he felt so very ashamed and guilty. Peter was right, he _hadn't _been thinking of anything but his own pleasure. He hadn't even been discreet about it!

Edmund was sorry that he had lost his clean conscience and risked losing the respect of his subjects, but what stung more than anything was that he had lost his brother's trust which had been so hard earned.

"I'm sorry, Peter," he whispered. Peter didn't answer him, didn't even look at him.

"Now, Ed," Susan said sympathetically, "don't look so stricken! You'll be good and in a month's time, we will forget that any of this unpleasantness ever happened. And I must find you a girl. Why I know a dozen girls who would adore having your attention – even girls _my_ age, if you can imagine that," Susan giggled as though this were absurd, though she was really little more than two years older than Edmund.

"I think that a wife would be just the thing to steady Edmund," Peter said more seriously.

"A _wife_?" Edmund asked, incredulously. "But I'm only sixteen!"

Peter looked at him sharply, as though Edmund having an opinion about it were out of the question. However, he spoke calmly. "You'll soon be seventeen," he said, "and by the time anything could be decided upon, you would be eighteen at the very least."

Edmund liked the sound of this less and less. Peter and Susan may have been right to reprimand him and perhaps he should find a girl to court to get his mind off of being with Cade, but marrying someone most likely hand picked by either his brother or his sister was a concept that was quite repulsive to him.

"I dare say that now that Peter is married off, that half the girls in the kingdom will be chasing after you at the Christmas ball," Susan said. "Especially if we put the word out that you are looking to marry."

Edmund was growing seriously alarmed. Surely none of this would be likely to attract the right type of woman. Peter seemed to agree with him. "I don't think that will be necessary," he told Susan. "I' m convinced that sending the young man away will have the greater effect than anything else we can do. I was very dismayed by his general conduct."

"Hold on!" Edmund exclaimed, shocked, and angry for the first time in the conversation. "You're sending Cade away? You can't do that!"

Susan winced at the words, but Peter looked at him in stony silence. "It's already done," he said, "he's gone."

"He's gone?" Edmund repeated. "You had no right – no authority to send him away."

"No authority? I'm High King!"

"Yes, and do you normally banish people based on who they bed?" Edmund blushed while saying this, but stood his ground.

"You won't catch me up in the law, Edmund," Peter said softly, as though pitying him for the first time since they had begun speaking. "I didn't order his banishment. In no way, did I abuse my authority and everything that I did was for the good of my _brother_." Anyone would have thought that the brother he was talking about wasn't the one that was sitting before him.

"Cade wouldn't have left unless you used your position to push him around," Edmund insisted. "He's very attached to this area – almost strangely so. He did nothing that was any worse than what I did and he was sent away from his childhood home for it." Edmund got up angrily and left the room, hoping that he could find out where Cade had gone, for he knew that Peter wouldn't give him any clues.

_Lucy _

Lucy loved her sister, but she resolved to never let Susan dress her up again. Susan meant well, of course, but anytime that Lucy let her sister choose her clothes and mess with her hair, she ended up looking a bit ridiculous. Lucy always felt uncomfortable in the finely detailed dresses and elaborate hair styles that Susan favored and she hated it when Su pinched her cheeks to make them rosy. The fashion didn't suit her warm features in the same way that it did Susan's elegance and Lucy was certain that everyone must know that her sister had helped her with her dress. Lucy had let Susan help her, however, because she knew that her sister thought that a fancy dress was just the thing to help Lucy feel better about herself; the dress did no such thing, but Susan could be excused for the thought because fine dresses were the one of the things that made _her_ feel good.

Lucy sighed and thought of how nice it would be to discard the dress in favor of something more sensible and go for a ride on her horse – it was such a nice autumn day. Still, the meeting that she was in wasn't so very bad. It was with a Prince from a far away land to the west of Calorman that Lucy had barely even heard of before. Being from so far away, the Prince could be of little threat to Narnia and so, rather than spending the whole day dealing with delicate issues between their two countries, they could talk pleasantly with one another and compare notes on their respective cultures and governments.

The meeting ended by mid-afternoon and Lucy immediately hurried towards her room, thinking of putting on something more practical and having some fun for the rest of the afternoon. On her way, she bumped into Roydon.

"Oh, Hullo Lucy," he said, sounding a bit confused and Lucy immediately guessed that he had been walking without paying much attention to where he was going. He looked her up and down. "By the Lion's Mane! What are you wearing? You look dreadful." This all came out in one burst and Roydon immediately clasped his hands over his mouth. He was very blunt, which was one of the reasons that he didn't get on very well with Susan who greatly valued tact. Lucy didn't much mind, however, especially during times like now when she agreed with him.

"It is not my usual style, no," she laughed. She didn't tell him that it was

Susan's doing, for she always tried very hard not to bad-mouth her sister in front of him. "I'm just about to change, in fact, so if you will excuse me, Sir," she nodded her head at him and he bowed, still looking a bit confused.

"Lucy, wait!" he called out when she had began to walk away. She turned around and looked at him. "Would you mind going for a walk?" he asked. This surprised her, for she had half-expected that he was standing about, hoping to bump into Susan.

She nodded. "Just let me change my outfit.

--- -- ---

"I didn't know we were going hiking!" Lucy exclaimed, good-naturedly, after slipping down a small hill. They had been walking for over an hour and had entered the small, relatively tame forest outside of Cair Paravel.

"I'm sorry," Roydon helped her up, looking concerned. "I should have mentioned it. We only have a bit farther to go, but we can turn back if you like. Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Lucy answered. "I wouldn't dream of turning back now. Roydon was still behaving as though they were walking aimlessly, but he had given himself away on several occasions without even seeming to realize it. He had a particular destination in mind. Something that he wanted to show Lucy. She was curious to see what it was.

After another ten minutes or so, they came to a small clearing and Lucy was just thinking of what a lovely place it was when something hit the back of her head.

"Ow!" Lucy said, reaching into her hair and pulling out a hazelnut. She puzzled over this for a few seconds, for she was not standing directly under a tree and there weren't even any trees bearing hazelnuts in the area. However, before she got a chance to think much on it she was hit by another nut, and then another.

"Dunk and cover!" Roydon yelled, pulling her down and shielding her head from the rain of nuts. Lucy could now hear high-pitched laughter and shrieks of glee.

"Chatter! Nutmeg!" Roydon yelled. "It's me, Roydon!"

The attack stopped very suddenly and Lucy heard the voices talking. "It's only Lord Roydon," one of the voices said.

"Why don't you check before you attack?" another, older sounding voice said. There was some rustling in the trees and Lucy almost squealed in delight for three of the fluffiest, most adorable brown Squirrels that she had ever seen in her life climbed down onto the ground. Two were not quite full grown and one appeared to be much older.

"I'm so sorry, Roydon," the oldest Squirrel said. "I should have been keeping a better watch on these two …" the creature's voice trailed off as it caught sight of Lucy standing up and brushing off her dress. "Queen Lucy!" she exclaimed, Lucy now realized that the Squirrel was, in fact, female and that the two others were most likely her offspring. "I'm very sorry, Your Majesty," she said, bowing, "sometimes my son and daughter don't look before they leap." Here, she shot a stern glance at the younger two Squirrels who looked subdued and a little ashamed.

"Don't worry about it at all!" Lucy exclaimed. "You didn't know who we were. I'm sorry that we snuck up on you like that."

"Doesn't matter at all, Your Majesty, doesn't matter at all," the Squirrel said, sounding pleased, all the same, "I am Mrs. Quirrel and these are my children, Chatter and Nutmeg," she bowed again and gestured for her children to do the same. "I hope that Your Majesty and Lord Roydon will join us for some dinner."

Lucy was about to politely decline, but seeing the look on Mrs. Quirrel's face she remembered that many people considered it an honor to have royalty dine with their family and she told the Squirrels that it would be an honor.

The squirrels spread a blanket out on the ground for them, saying that they were sorry that they didn't have any furniture big enough to accommodate humans and that Lucy and Roydon wouldn't fit into their home, which was in a large tree, anyway. Their meal was mostly of nuts and fruits, although they were some of the best and biggest that Lucy had ever eaten. Roydon, who seemed to know the family, talked gravely about things of interest to Squirrels such as the coming winter and the benefits of nuts over seeds. At first, the younger squirrels were very shy of Lucy, but she talked to them kindly until they were soon chattering away to them in the way that Squirrels do. Word must have got out that Queen Lucy was among them, because before the end of the meal they had been joined by several other Talking Animals, mostly of the small and cuddly variety.

"But Mrs. Quirrel," Lucy said when they were almost done eating, "why did you attack us? Surely you are not under any threat, here, so close to Cair Paravel? I didn't think that there were any leftover pockets the Witch's supporters."

"We thought that you were those horrid boys!" Chatter squealed before his mother could say anything. "We hate them, hate them, hate them!" Lucy was surprised at the young Squirrel's vehemence.

"What boys?" she asked.

"Oh, there have been some boys coming into the forest lately – I believe that their parents recently settled in the valley. They used their slingshots to try and hit us with stones if you can believe that!" Mrs. Quirrel said, hugging her son as though grateful that he was there.

Lucy looked at Roydon. Being attacked by nut throwing Squirrels may be amusing, but boys with slingshots were another matter. A large, well aimed stone flung from a slingshot would be enough to kill or seriously injure a Talking Squirrel.

"This is a grave matter!" she cried. "Don't they know that killing you or one of your children would make them murderers?"

"To tell you the truth, Your Majesty," an old Badger said slowly, thinking it over, "I don't rightfully think that they _do_. These boys are new to Narnia and I don't think that it has been fully impressed upon them, the difference between Talking Beasts and those dumb beasts that they used to kill their old home for sport."

"Have they been bothering the rest of you, then?" Lucy asked, looking around. Several of the animals nodded. Lucy was very angry now. "I send someone to speak with that family immediately," she said and she even rose as though she intended to do it right that second.

"Don't be too harsh on the boys, Your Majesty," Mrs. Quirrel said. "They are only children and I don't think that they understand."

On their way home, Roydon spoke with her on the matter. "What you are doing for these creatures is good Lucy, very good, but it won't stop the problems. I've spoken with many Talking Beasts lately and nearly all of them have been having trouble with humans."

"They have!" Lucy asked. "Then why did I know nothing of it? Why were their grievances not brought before myself and my brothers and sister?"

"When I asked them, they always seemed to think it was something they could handle themselves. But do you realize how many humans have come to Narnia since the beginning of your reign? Of course there are going to be conflicts between them and the native inhabitants. It may not amount to much now, but in time the small grievances may grow into hatred between the two groups, maybe even into war."

"Then we'll halt it. No more humans are to come into Narnia."

Roydon frowned. "I'm not sure that is the answer, either. I mean, I came here because it was so free and beautiful and prosperous. I'm not sure that I would want to deprive other humans of that – I lived on Galma before and it was nearly so nice as here."

Lucy frowned also and slowed her walk. Despite leaving at top speed to tell her brothers and sister about this meeting, it was now mostly dark. "Then what is the answer?" she asked softly, almost to herself.

Roydon scratched his head. "I was hoping you would know. You or your sister or brothers."

Lucy sighed, but then gave him a sly smile. "So you brought me there on purpose to show me these things?" she asked. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I thought it would have more impact if you saw the Squirrels for yourself. And I wanted you to meet them – they are one of my favorite families. Aren't they just delightful? Sometimes, I like the Talking Animals better than most humans."

Lucy laughed and was about to say something when they topped a hill and they both saw Cair Paravel, its white stones gleaming in the moonlight, looking like a great beautiful ghost. Lucy sighed with pleasure at the sight, as she always did upon seeing her castle and she heard Roydon give a similar sigh.

"She's always most beautiful in the moonlight," he breathed softly.

"What?" Lucy asked.

"Oh – I just think that Cair Paravel looks best in the moonlight."

"Is the castle female?" she asked half-teasing.

He blushed. "It's just a fancy," he said, "It's stupid, I know."

Many girls would have thought it stupid and changed the subject, but Lucy cocked her head to one side, then the other, regarding the castle. "Yes, I see what you mean," she said finally, "it is so elegant and stately and beautiful – I think that it must be female also. Though I must admit that I find Cair just as lovely by day when the sun cheers her up a bit and she has happy people bustling about all around her."

Roydon shook his head seriously. "She will always be most beautiful by the moon and the stars to me. By day she is a cheerful girl, but by night a noble lady."

Lucy frowned. No matter how hard she looked at the castle, she couldn't see that it was any more beautiful by night than by day.


	4. Christmas Ball

**AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I always appreciate it. This chapter turned out longer than I expected, but is still shorter than the last.**

**Chapter Four: Christmas Ball**

_Peter_

Peter usually loved Christmastime in Narnia. The giving of expensive presents wasn't quite as prevalent as in his own world, but the air of general happiness was delightful. Christmas was one of the many things that the White Witch took from the Narnians. It seemed like such a little thing when compared with their freedom, their livelihoods, or their lives, but Christmas was a symbol for much more important things that she had ripped from them. Jadis had taken away the Narnian's fun, their hope, and their joy. This was why Christmas had become rather more important in Narnia than in other lands in this world. This was why, on this day, the Narnians, old and new, wavered between solemn gratitude and frenzied elation. Christmas was Narnia's new national holiday.

Peter had quickly realized how much Christmas meant to the Narnians and since the third year of their reign, the Christmas Ball had been the largest, most celebratory court event of the year. Although Peter normally discouraged a great deal of spending of frivolities, for the Christmas Ball, no expense was spared. And though the sound of faun flutes and the woodsy scent of pine needle decoration replaced more sophisticated instruments and decorations found in other parts of the world, the Narnia Christmas Ball was still known in many surrounding countries.

This year, the decorations and the music were as wonderful as ever. There were even more guests than usual and much need for celebration as it had been a very good year. However, the ball was rather subdued compared to past years because Narnia's Kings and Queens all seemed to be in less than ideal moods. Peter sighed as he watched his brother and sisters. He remembered past years when their smiles were more genuine and their interest was wholly consumed with the business of merriment. This year, Susan was wearing a dress that Peter thought looked absolutely ridiculous and was too busy juggling about five handsome young men to pay much attention to her other guests. Despite this, she seemed dissatisfied and fretful. Edmund was pale and withdrawn and to Peter's great disappointment, he didn't even try to get to know any of the young ladies that were pointed out to him. He was polite to them all and danced with them all once, but he was very careful to make no move to indicate that he preferred one over the other. Peter thought that his brother was being very difficult. Peter himself was distracted over Ethnee who had been acting very strangely for the last couple of weeks. At this moment, his wife was conversing with her sisters, some of whom she hadn't seen since she and Peter had been married and she shied away from everyone else present. This wouldn't have bothered Peter much; he knew that she was just bashful, but Ethnee's nature was constantly being misinterpreted. She was conceited, many said, too good to talk almost anyone other than Peter. Lucy was the only one of the four monarchs who was her usual jolly self, but even her disposition was dampened by the others' bad moods.

Peter couldn't help but smile as he watched his youngest sister walk over to speak with his wife. Lucy was always very sweet to Ethnee; trying to draw her out into conversation or to help her during state occasions which were rather new and overwhelming to the new bride. At the moment, however, Ethnee, from what Peter could tell, seemed to be excusing herself and trying to leave the room. Peter frowned. The ball had barely started and people would be disappointed if they didn't get to see the couple dance at least once. Lucy came to talk to him where he was seated at his throne, which he had learned years ago was the only place he where he wouldn't be surrounded by dozens of people vying for his attention during balls.

"Peter," Lucy whispered in his ear, "I think you had better go check on Ethnee. She doesn't seem quite well."

Peter frowned. Ethnee had seemed almost sick lately, as well as unhappy, but she had barely said a word to Peter in a week. He had asked her if she was angry with him but she insisted that everything was fine.

"Thank you, Lu," Peter said, forcing a smile and patting Lucy on the arm, "she's probably just flustered by so many people, but I'll check on her."

Lucy smiled at him and seemed about to leave when the attention of both of them was drawn to the back of the room where there seemed to be some sort of commotion going on. The Talking Beasts were giving shouts of excitement, while the humans seemed to be whispering to one another in disbelief. The ruckus was slowly spreading in their direction. Peter's face broke into a genuine smile when he saw who was walking towards him and Lucy clapped her hands in delight.

"Father Christmas," Peter said gravely, "you are welcome at our court." Peter hadn't seen Father Christmas since that very first Christmas in Narnia, but he recognized him instantly.

Father Christmas bowed to him. "King Peter," he answered, "I have heard that you and your sisters have made good use of the gifts that I gave you years ago."

"We tried to, sir," Peter said.

"Because you have done this, I have brought another gift to you and all of Narnia. It is not one that you can hold in your hand, but it is one that will cheer even those with grown-up worries," here he smiled at Peter, "it is a Christmas snow."

There was some scattered cheering at this, but also some skeptical murmurs. It had been an unseasonably warm year and it certainly wasn't cold enough outside to snow. Yet, when Father Christmas left the room, nearly everyone followed him. There were many "ohs" and "ahs" when Peter's guests glimpsed the beautiful snow falling steadily from the sky and already forming a light dust on the ground. There was something special about this snow not usually present; something magical was in the air. Several people had opened their mouths to catch snowflakes like Peter could vaguely remember doing as a very small child. In Narnia, even the adults sometimes acted like children. Peter looked around to invite Father Christmas to stay for the ball, but found that he was already loaded back onto his sleigh. Peter wished him a good journey and settled in to enjoy the snow. He saw several young couples wander off to dark corners and he thought about how romantic it would be to stroll through the winter night with Ethnee on his arm.

_Ethnee!_ He was supposed to check on Ethnee. Peter sighed and turned from the great party. For once, his leaving went completely unnoticed.

Peter found his wife lying on her bed with a cold cloth pressed to her forehead. Ethnee was prone to headaches. "Are you feeling unwell, dear?" Peter asked her, though honestly, the frequency of Ethnee's supposed headaches and weak spells was beginning to annoy him.

"The music was giving me a headache and the heat from so many bodies was making me feel ill."

"Everyone has gone outside now. It's snowing."

"Snowing!" Ethnee sat up and looked at him. "And everyone left that grand ball to go outside?"

Peter came over to the bed and put his arms around her shoulders. "It's the most beautiful snow that I have ever seen. I was hoping that you would like to have a private walk in the courtyard with me."

Ethnee had come dangerously close to smile at the beginning of this speech, but near the end, she frowned and shrugged him off. "It wouldn't be private," she said, bitterly.

Peter sighed. She was right, of course, but she had just destroyed the pretty picture that had been building in his head. "They will expect to see the two of us together some time tonight," Peter said, turning away from her, "There will be talk if we aren't."

"We're together right now."

"I meant publicly."

"I know what you meant! But Peter, they're always staring at me. Everywhere I go, they watch, hoping to see me mess up."

"No one wishes to see you fail, Ethnee," Peter said, a bit coldly, "it is all in your head."

"Well, maybe not _hoping_ exactly," she admitted, "but they're watching and they _expect _me to fail. They wonder if I am good enough to be your wife. They wonder if I have the spirit and grace of your sisters. And of course the answer is no! How could it be anything else when the humans adore you as their good king and the creatures worship you almost as a god?"

Peter remembered his promise to Ethnee's father, Lord Patrim. The promise that he wouldn't put undue strain on Ethnee. He had tried very hard to live up to this promise. Ethnee had remained a private person, hadn't been made Queen of Narnia, hadn't been given any responsibilities, but now Peter considered a new possibility. Perhaps just being married to him was enough to put more strain on Ethnee than most ladies in the realm felt. Peter often thought that Ethnee would get along better if she made some sort of effort to be involved, but he knew that asking Ethnee to speak in public or be a socialite was like asking a fish to fly. Ethnee had a great many talents. She could sing beautifully and play the lute. She could do fabulous embroidery. She could paint moderately well and wrote a bit of poetry. She could even cook and sew and garden (skills that were nearly useless as the King's wife). She was a decent conversationalist, but never, ever to strangers. Peter began to feel sympathetic to his wife and put his arms around her. She shed a few tears into his tunic.

"There, there" Peter whispered, "it'll be fine. Narnia isn't a judgmental sort of place. Just be yourself and everyone will love you."

Ethnee shook her head and laughed a little. "I suppose that they'll have to like me soon enough," she whimpered. "When I have a baby."

"When you –" Peter stuttered in shock, wondering what she meant by that statement.

"I think I'm going to," she said softly through her tears. She looked up at Peter's stunned face. "You're happy, aren't you?"

Peter thought about this. Was he happy? Everyone else would be thrilled. One of a King's most important duties was to produce an heir. Yet, despite having looked after a whole country and three younger siblings, Peter wondered if he was ready to be a father. He couldn't tell any of this to Ethnee, however. "Of course, I'm happy," he said, kissing her on the forehead. It wouldn't have been gentlemanly to say anything else.

Peter got up and paced about the room, not thinking that this may show his nervousness. He absently opened the curtains and saw the beautiful snow still coming down and people still hanging about outside, having apparently abandoned the throne room. The snow was thick on the ground and some of the young men were having snowball fights. "How long have you known?" Peter asked.

"A few weeks."

So that explained Ethnee's bad moods. Peter sat down on a high backed chair by the window. "Come and sit in my lap, dear," he said to her, reassuringly. Perhaps the snow could turn out to be romantic for him after all.

_Susan_

Alberic was having a snowball fight.

Susan had invested a great deal of effort in this ball. Having her dress made just perfectly, thinking of how she was going to flirt and dance and play hard to get. It hadn't turned out exactly as she had hoped. The young lords had fought for her favors, as usual, and Susan had danced with several very handsome ones, but the man who she most wanted to notice her hadn't glanced her way all night. Torim had danced with all the prettiest ladies. He had even danced with Lucy, but he had avoided Susan as though she were the plague. When the ball had moved outside, Alberic, her old standby had abandoned her to throw snowballs. The snow could have been so beautifully romantic, but Susan stood alone with her arms crossed, her lovely sapphire dress covered by her blue velvet cloak.

"He is such a child!" Susan muttered in frustration, watching Alberic scream in victory as he beamed someone in the back with a snowball.

"He is," a deep voice by her side agreed. Susan felt a shiver of excitement go down her spine as she realized it was Torim. Still, she _was_ rather irritated at him and she was going to let him know it.

"I don't see how it is any of your business, whether he is or he isn't."

"Pardon me," he said politely, "but any man who uses an occasion such as this for snowball fighting when he could be lovemaking is either a child or a fool."

Susan felt her heart beat faster at these words, but she attempted to tease him. "I didn't know you took such an interest in Lord Alberic's lovemaking pursuits," she teased.

"Oh, I've taken a _very _keen interest Lord Alberic, but not because I have a taste for fine young lords like your brother does."

"Like my – how do you know about that?" Susan demanded, dropping their flirtatious game for a moment. "I – I mean, I thought that it wasn't widely known."

"I don't believe that it is, but I make it my business to know a great deal about the people around me."

"Oh, and I dare say that you know everything there is to know about me?" Susan asked sarcastically.

Torim waited long moments before answering, holding out his hand and catching sparkling snowflakes on his black glove. The snowflakes were so beautiful that Susan was momentarily distracted by them. "I know that there are a thousand young men who would love to make it into your bed, but thus far, Alberic seems to be the only one to regularly succeed. And you needn't look at me in that angry way for we both know that I speak nothing but the truth. I know that you had an unusually expensive dress made just for this occasion – a dress in the Terebinthian style. I know that you are fond of Alberic – but a woman like you, Susan, you need more than a boy."

"Why I never!" Susan exclaimed indignantly, turning away from him. The man could be so rude!

"Stop it," he demanded. He grabbed Susan by the arm and turned her towards him. "I tire of your coy games, your female flirtations." He ran across along the neckline of her dress and she gasped. It was his very rudeness and harshness that made him so attractive. The others all tried too hard. With Torim, Susan felt that she was talking to man and not a pathetic pet.

"How can this be true?" she asked, completely seriously. "You play the game too well yourself not to derive some enjoyment from it."

"Perhaps I do, sometimes. But there are times for flirting and playful games and there are times for getting down to business." His arms had encircled her waist now but this was cleverly almost entirely concealed by her cloak. "Where can we go?" he asked.

"My quarters," Susan replied, breathlessly, taking him by the hand.

_Edmund_

"The real problem is that the humans and the creatures want different things from the lands they inhabit," Edmund was saying to the girl at his side.

"Ah, um, yes," Alise agreed, her teeth chattering a bit. Edmund sighed. The ridiculous thing had run outside with no coat or cloak on!

"Would you like my cloak?" he asked.

"No, I wouldn't want to deprive you of it," she said, shivering visibly, "but perhaps we could _both _fit under it?" She smiled at him, feigning shyness. Edmund had tried his best to avoid all the ladies who were suddenly very interested in him, but Alise had attached herself to him like a leech.

"I dare say we could," Edmund muttered, groaning inwardly. He put his arm around her shoulder, allowing the cloak to cover them both.

"That's much better," she said, beaming up at him and fluttering her eyelashes. Before a few weeks ago, he had always thought the thing about girls fluttering their eyelashes was just an expression.

"What were we talking about?" Edmund asked hastily. "Oh, yes, I was saying that the biggest problem with this sudden human immigration in Narnia is that the humans want a different sort of Narnia than most of the Talking Beasts and fauns and centaurs and dwarfs and dryads and practically any other creature. Humans want farms and cities and trade and all that. Narnia's original inhabitants want uncut forests and wild lands. Maybe mining for some of the dwarfs, but that's just because they enjoy it."

Edmund looked at Alise to find that she was absently twirling a bit of her hair on the end of her finger. He realized that she hadn't heard a word he had said. Why did girls have to act so mindless? He knew that they couldn't really all _be_ mindless because his sisters weren't like that at all. Lucy could have talked about this very subject with him all day (she was really the one who was most concerned about it) and Susan, for all her femininity, really had a rather good head for politics and government. Sometimes he thought that girls must think that men _want_ them to act this way. After all, he had seen Susan behaving in much the same manner around her suitors. Maybe men really _did_ want women to behave that way; he wouldn't know much about it as he wasn't really that fond of girls. Maybe these ladies were all putting on a show and underneath they were actually smart and easy to talk to.

"Oh, look Edmund," Alise giggled, "they're starting to play music over there and some couples are dancing in that area with the roof. I love to dance."

Or maybe not. Edmund looked over at Alise who was playing with her hair and tapping her foot impatiently. If these girls really were intelligent, they hid it very well. Even Ethnee was more interesting! Edmund realized that he was supposed to ask Alise to dance and that if he didn't, after she dropped such a large hint, she would be terribly offended. Why weren't their instruments frozen? Edmund had always heard that musicians had a hard time playing in such cold weather.

"Would you like to dance, Alise?" he ground out, not sounding like he wanted to at all. He was never much good at the social niceties.

"I would be delighted Edmund," she giggled. Edmund wondered why she kept giggling.

At least Alise did have one advantage over most of the ladies here, Edmund thought miserably as he twirled her about. She wasn't picked by Peter or Susan. Edmund liked to feel that he had at least a bit of control over these types of things.

_Lucy_

First, Lucy danced with dwarf who seemed thrilled to get attention from the Queen and then she looked around for Peter. She loved dancing with Peter; it was the closest feeling she could get to when she used to dance on her father's feet when she was a little girl. It was odd that she could still remember dancing on her father's feet but had forgot big things like the name of her best friend from school or even her parents' faces. Peter, however, was nowhere to be found so she pried Edmund away from a girl named Alise and danced with him. Edmund, who was (surprisingly) a rather good dancer at the best of times stepped on her feet. Lucy thought he was most definitely distracted. Edmund had been a bit off for quite some time. Lucy felt as though there was something she wasn't being told about him.

After dancing with Edmund, Lucy danced with Mr. Tumnus, which turned out to be much pleasanter. They began talking about the Quirrel family whom Lucy had been to visit three more times since the first time with Roydon.

"I believe I knew their father," Tumnus told her as they danced. "A good family, though a bit excitable. But then, most Squirrels are."

"Peter and I gave those human boys' parents a good talking to," Lucy said. "I don't think they'll be bothering any Talking Animals in the future. I dare say that they didn't mean any harm, but I still feel a bit angry about it all."

"I heard all about it – you standing up for the Quirrels, I mean," Mr. Tumnus said, suppressing a smile. "It's already being talked about far and wide. About how Queen Lucy took up for Talking Beasts – even if it meant chastising her own kind."

"Well of course I did! In this case, the Talking Beasts were in the right. My brothers and sister and I were all in agreement; we could not have taken the other side."

Mr. Tumnus shook his head. "Not so. When there are disagreements in Narnia, the dwarfs side with the dwarfs, the fauns with the fauns, the Beasts with the Beasts – especially those of their same kind – and so on. Therefore, many expected you to side with the humans."

"But that's ridiculous," Lucy objected.

"It probably is," Mr. Tumnus agreed, "but I see that we shall not be able to continue this discussion further because our dance is about to end."

"Oh, do be my partner for the next dance, Mr. Tumnus," Lucy said. "I love talking to you."

Tumnus smiled at her. "I would, Your Majesty, but I fear that there is another young gentleman who would enjoy the honor more than I." Lucy followed Tumnus' line of vision to a young man who was standing off to the side.

"Prince Ikram? Mr. Tumnus! You mustn't tease me like that," she said, a bit reproachfully.

"I wasn't teasing you. He's been staring at you through our whole dance. In fact, I've noticed him staring at you at other times. Why do you think he has stayed in Narnia for the last few months when he could have gone back to his own land long ago?"

"I figured – I mean, I thought he was of the type who would ask for Susan's hand in marriage."

"That's what I thought also when he first arrived, but his eyes are never on your sister. Go talk to him and see for yourself." The song was ending and Tumnus was now nudging Lucy in Ikram's direction.

To Lucy's great surprise, Ikram did act rather like a suitor. He complimented her beauty and asked to walk with her. He talked about the snow which he had never seen before and about his home country which was near Calormen. He was really a very handsome young man with his dark skin and impeccable beard. He was dressed in a long robe of some of the most beautiful fabric that Lucy had ever seen that made him stand out from the other young men. Lucy had spoken to him before, of course, but never for very long.

"Sir," Lucy said, "your style of dress is very like that of the Calormens. I visited that country once, several years ago. Is yours much like it?"

"Several people have asked me that here. We do not think of ourselves as being such, but I suppose that you might. At present, we are on the verge of war with Calormen. The current Tisroc is ever looking to increase his empire. Narnia would do well to watch him"

"Narnia has no desire to go to war with Calormen."

"Of course," he said, inclining his head politely. "But I see that we are now coming back to the dancers. It is often said that dancing is better than talking, but best still if you know a wise and eloquent woman with whom you can do both at the same time."

"Are you asking me to dance?" Lucy laughed.

"I thought it was obvious," Ikram replied, in some confusion.

They both laughed and began to make their way towards the dancers. Unfortunately, on the way, she quite literally bumped into Roydon, who was disoriented having apparently just come from a snowball fight.

"Oh – Lucy!" he exclaimed, his eyes going back and forth between the two of them as though his mind couldn't process what was going on. "Hullo."

"Roydon," Lucy breathed and she suddenly felt terribly guilty. She wasn't sure why. It wasn't as though Roydon was even courting her and it was just one dance anyway. But she felt guilty all the same. Roydon's face had gone rather red and Lucy felt that hers must be the same. The three of them stood, staring at each other for long moments.

"Sir," Ikram said finally, "you block our path."

Still Roydon stood staring at them both, his mouth hanging open.

"Excuse us, Roydon," Lucy said, gently, moving him to the side.

As it turned out, Ikram was a very good dancer.


	5. Control

**Chapter Five: Control**

_Peter_

"Look at me," Edmund said, holding up the new baby Princess, "I'm an uncle!"

"You've said that at least fifty times over the last few weeks," Lucy pointed out, amused.

"Yes," agreed Susan, more irritated, "and don't hold her like that, Ed. Babies like to be held firmly."

"Oh, how would you know?" Edmund asked. "She's not crying. She loves her Uncle Edmund."

Susan rolled her eyes and Peter suppressed laughter. Catherine (named after Peter's grandmother) had been born two weeks ago and Peter was very surprised by how much his brother and sisters doted on the new baby. Well, perhaps it wasn't so shocking with Susan and Lucy. Susan was so motherly and Lucy was so sweet and women naturally liked babies anyway. Edmund, however, was a total and rather pleasant surprise, especially as he had previously shown very little interest in babies. The only fault that Peter could find with him was that he was a bit overenthusiastic and not careful enough with the infant.

"Give her to me," Peter commanded holding out his arms to take the Princess. Edmund handed her over. Peter sighed reverently as he looked down at his baby. She was so beautiful and tiny and vulnerable. She looked a lot like Ethnee with blonde hair and big blue eyes. Everyone assumed that Peter would be disappointed that his new child was not a boy. A part of him was disappointed; the part who was King of Narnia and always looking to the best interests of his kingdom. But as soon as he had seen little Catherine, he knew that he wouldn't have had it any other way. Anyway, if she had been a boy, then he would have had to train her and be hard on her. Since she was a girl, he could spoil and pet her. He could buy her all the beautiful, dainty things that little girls liked. He could protect her.

Peter touched the soft skin gently and watched, in a dreamy sort of wonder as if the experience were totally new to him as his daughter clasped her tiny fist around his finger. He kissed her on the forehead and looked up to find his brother and sisters looking at him rather fondly. He gave them a stern frown. The next moment, a knock came from the door that led to the bedroom from Peter's sitting quarters where they were currently engaged.

"Enter," Peter said, knowing that it would be one of Ethnee's sisters, two of whom, Marna and Lyla, were helping to take care of Ethnee who still hadn't recovered from her difficult delivery. Peter sighed as he saw Marna, looking as dour as a woman of her relatively young age could, come into the room. Marna asked for baby Catherine very curtly, claiming that it was her feeding time. Peter reluctantly handed the child over. If the responses of his brother and sisters to the birth had been a pleasant surprise for Peter, then Ethnee's response had been a complete disappointment. It had physically been a difficult birth and at first had thought this the reason for his wife's behavior. Soon however, it became obvious that Ethnee was more ill in mind than in body. She spent her days lying about in bed, most usually staring at the ceiling and she could rarely be persuaded to engage conversation. She held Catherine in her arms when the baby was given to her, but she showed little interest in her own child. Peter, who had always assumed that Ethnee would make an excellent mother, was perplexed by this. His wife was usually so tender and loving and gentle; almost the ideal image of a mother. Peter had become truly and deeply angry with Ethnee.

Peter sighed as he watched Marna carry Catherine into the other room. Marna claimed that Ethnee was just feeling a bit dejected and that she would soon snap out of it. Peter was less sure of this. What did Ethnee have to feel bad about? She was surrounded by people who loved her, who were doing every conceivable thing for her and she had a new, healthy, beautiful child. Not to mention the fact that she was the High King's wife. Most women would envy her.

--- -- ---

Marna was very irritated with the Kings and Queens at that moment. She had never liked Peter that much. Peter had taken her little sister away. Her little sister who wasn't nearly mature enough or strong enough to be his wife. Marna normally liked Peter's family better than Peter himself, but she could tell that they were angry with Ethnee. They didn't understand. Marna had explained it to them, but they still didn't understand. They thought that Ethnee didn't love her baby, that she was a horrible, uncaring mother. Even Lucy, who was usually so sweet and helpful to Ethnee had been somewhat distant and reproachful. In a way, Marna could understand their feelings. Ethnee did seem unhappy and disinterested in Catherine but Marna also knew that this was just a phase. She knew because she had observed the same thing in her own mother. After each birth, her mother had always become very distant and acted ill even though she should have been recovering physically. She had always overcome these feelings within a few months. Marna had tried to tell Peter all this, but he was very stubborn and behaved as though his ears were full of sand. She did think that Peter and his brother and sisters could be a _little _more understanding. It wasn't as though having a baby was easy.

Marna had to practically pry Catherine away from Peter when it was time for the baby to be fed. She had to admit that he did seem to love the baby, but his refusal to spend time with Ethnee _and_ the baby were not helping her sister to recover. She found that Ethnee was laying in the bed with her eyes closed and that her other sister, Lyla, was sitting in a chair nearby, filing her nails. Marna sighed. She would have much rather brought one of the younger girls to help with Ethnee; she got the feeling that the only reason Lyla had come was to be near court and to meet all the young men at Cair, but the opportunity of doing these things combined with the chance to get away from their father's watchful eye had been enough for Lyla to insist.

Marna walked over to the bed and held out the baby to Ethnee. "Here's little Catherine, dear," she said cheerfully. "I think it's time for her lunch."

"Oh, Marna," Ethnee moaned, "hasn't Peter got a nurse for her yet? I swear, I don't think he cares about me at all anymore." Ethnee's eyes filled with the sincerest tears as she said this.

Marna hugged her sister. Peter had mentioned getting a nurse for Catherine, but Marna had put it off, hoping that more time with the baby would help Ethnee to get better sooner. "Shh, darling, of course he still cares about you," she said, putting aside her feelings about Peter for the moment. "I think that he just would like you to show more of an interest in things."

"I know, I know," Ethnee said, tears running down her face. "I know everyone thinks I'm terrible and they're right. I don't – don't know what's wrong with me, Marna."

Marna hugged her sister tightly and cried also. She didn't know how to help Ethnee.

_Susan_

Susan was a trollop.

She was convinced of this. Ever since Susan was a small child, she had been taught that "good" girls could only have one boyfriend at a time. She was quite sure that a good girl wouldn't have slept with both Alberic and Torim. Alberic was the problem. She knew that if she told him her true feelings then he would probably cry and fuss and argue and tell her that his love for her was eternal and that he would waste away without her or some such nonsense. Susan could never stand to hurt anyone's feelings and she always avoided conflict. So now she was stuck with both Alberic and Torim.

Torim often visited Cair Paraval, so much so that Susan thought that he must spend more time with her than in his own country. One fall morning Susan lay in her bed, regarding her toes peeping out from under the bedclothes with sleepy satisfaction. Torim was an excellent lover. He definitely knew what he was about, much more so than Alberic. He knew how to please a woman. Alberic (and most men, from what she could gather) seemed to think that sex was all about the man's pleasure and that most women would only do it to be accommodating to their husbands or lovers.

"What are you smiling about?" Torim teased, sitting up beside of her in her bed.

"I was just thinking about what a magnificent chest you have," she answered staunchly, reaching over to run her hands along his torso. Torim loved being flattered.

"Oh, you were, were you? Maybe you were or maybe … you're a little liar!" With this, he began to tickle her and Susan dissolved into laughter. Torim could always tell when she was lying.

"Still," Torim said when he was done tormenting her and she was done giggling, "I do have a nice chest, if I do say so myself."

"So vain, King Torim," Susan said lightly.

"I dare say that I have a much nicer chest than Alberic."

Susan sighed and turned away from him. "Please don't start this again, darling," she pouted. "Jealousy doesn't become you."

"Who would have imagined that Queen Susan the Gentle was such a whore?"

"Torim!"

"I'm positively dying from your cold cruelty."

"Torim! You know that I want to end it with Alberic. It's just … I know he's going to do something stupid."

"I'm only teasing you, dear. Yes, I agree that Alberic has a great talent for looking stupid," this last bit was said rather fiercely despite his assurances that he was joking.

"Torim, you're hurting my feelings."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to hurt your feelings, Susan dear," he said, kissing her on the nose. She giggled again and they kissed some more, retreating to the warmth underneath Susan's bedclothes. Susan barely heard the sharp intake of breath coming from the doorway, but her heart fell knowing that someone had discovered them. Susan sat it. It was worse than she thought. A very pale Alberic was standing near the doorway, staring at the two of them.

"You – you --" Alberic stuttered, his face going red and then white again. Susan felt genuinely sorry for him.

"Alberic," she said, "I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you …" she trailed off as she realized that Alberic wasn't listening to a word she was saying, but was looking at Torim with the utmost rage.

"You disgusting whoreson!" he yelped, causing Susan to start. "You have tainted this lady's honor."

"No more so than yourself," Torim yawned.

"I challenge you to single combat!" Alberic yelled recklessly.

"What!" Susan said alarmed. They both ignored her.

"You don't want to challenge me to single combat, son," Torim said, dangerously. This was true enough – everyone knew that Torim was an excellent swordsman.

"If you don't accept, then I'll run you through right here like the dishonorable excuse for a man that you are."

"Oh, Alberic, stop it," Susan said, but Torim interrupted her.

"Well, when you put it like that, I suppose that I have no choice but to accept."

"Torim," Susan said in warning.

"You heard him, dear," said Torim, who sounded suspiciously as though he were ready to laugh. "If I don't accept, then I will surely be slain."

--- -- ---

"You had best tell me what this is all about at once," Peter said sternly to the two men standing before him.

Susan cringed. This was it. She was about to be publicly humiliated, revealed as a loose woman. Alberic had no reason to protect her; he could tell Peter about Torim's actions without bringing in his own. Susan watched Alberic's gaze go back and forth between her and Peter. "This – this man has gravely insulted your sister's honor, King Peter. I cannot bear any insult to the Queen and so I challenged him to single combat."

Peter looked over at Torim. "Is this what happened?"

"Your Majesty, I did nothing to insult the Queen. This man in is in love with her and is jealous that Queen Susan has shown some interest in me."

Peter looked between the two of them gravely. "And you accepted his challenge?" he asked Torim.

"I did, Your Majesty," Torim said, despite Susan's imploring glances.

"Then so be it," Peter said. Susan felt as if she were going to be ill.

--- -- ---

"Peter, you must stop this madness." Susan implored her brother for the hundredth time, with tears in her eyes. They were sitting on throne-like seats in a tent that was arranged for them to watch the combat. "They'll end up killing each other over something so stupid!"

"I've told you, there's nothing I can do, Susan! It is a dispute of honor between two knights. I can't interfere."

"Well, I think you're dreadfully cruel," Susan said, stamping her foot. "You could stop this if you wanted to!"

"Susan," he said gently, "I have no _right _to stop it. How would it look if I interfered in this just because it suited my family?"

Susan turned away from him. "Edmund," she said, seeing her younger brother walk up, "see if you can't talk Alberic out of this."

Edmund shook his head. "I've already tried, Su. And Peter's right – commanding them to stop would be breaking an unwritten rule of the knighthood. It wouldn't be noble."

"If it's an unwritten rule, then it means that you're allowed to break it."

Edmund shook his head. "You know better than most that this is not true. Sometimes it's the unwritten rules that are the most important to people, I think."

Susan rolled her eyes. Someone would soon be killed and he was brooding about law or philosophy or ethics or something equally ridiculous.

Men were all idiots.

"Oh, Susan, be reasonable!" Peter said, catching her look.

"Reasonable? Reasonable!" she exclaimed. "I _am _being reasonable. Everyone else is acting mad. Going on about honor and rules and nonsense when senseless bloodshed is about to occur!"

"The whole point –" Peter began, but was cut off by the commotion that accompanied the two combatants entering the yard. Everyone watched the two approach one other with a sort of reverent awe. Susan saw that several eyes were trained upon herself. It must have made a fine picture for all of them. Alberic in his polished silver armor, his perfectly groomed features full of righteous indignation and Torim in ancient looking armor that Susan had never seen him wear before, his broadsword slung over his back and his long mane of golden hair flowing down as his helm was held at his side. All this as Susan, the helpless and beautiful lady watched anxiously, fear and female delicacy towards bloodshed causing her perfect features to pale and her hands to clench tightly in her lap. Susan knew that some of those gazes that she got from the crowd were disapproving. As though it were her fault that two fools wanted to kill one another.

The two bowed in the direction of the monarchs and then bowed to each other. They spoke, though Susan couldn't hear their words, and then the fight was on. Susan had assumed that Torim would tear Alberic to pieces, but Alberic was really quite a bit better than she had thought and managed to dodge Torim's aggressive blows. Their swords and shields clanged loudly and Susan gasped each time. This sort of thing always made her feel vaguely sick, but now she felt like dying. How could people find anything exciting or noble about it? Presently, Susan realized that Torim was not putting his full effort into the fight. He barely even using his shield, leaving his whole torso exposed and he would often lean back as though waiting for Alberic to make the next move. Susan knew by his stance that if she could have seen his face, he would have been smiling. She cursed him for prolonging her agony.

Alberic had noticed also. "Fight me!" he yelled out to Torim, hacking his sword wildly. "Fight me like a man!"

Torim, alarmed by the heedlessness of Alberic's motions, took this opportunity to use his shield knock Alberic's sword from his hand and to knock the slighter man to the ground. Torim ripped Alberic's helm off and brought his sword swiftly down on his neck so that for a moment, Susan thought that he was going to slit Alberic's throat. Instead, he pressed the point against Alberic's neck so firmly that a little trickle of blood ran down.

"Queen Susan," Torim yelled out above the din of the crowd, "shall I kill this churl for harassing you and causing you so much anxiety."

Peter frowned at this but Susan gave a long sigh of relief. It was all over and no one killed. "No, no, of course not, King Torim," she said, trying to affect a laugh. "Let him go."

Torim pushed Alberic forcefully away and bowed slightly to the cheering crowd. Susan got up to go and speak to Torim. She had been certain only a few moments earlier that she would never speak to him again, but now that it was all over and done with and no one hurt it _did_ seem rather romantic. Susan never made it to Torim, however. Her stress and conflicting emotions must have been too much for her because she fainted dead away.

_Edmund_

There was a heavy weight bearing down upon Edmund's body, restricting his breathing and causing his ribs to ache. Edmund opened his eyes to find that the weight was actually a blonde headed girl who was lying on top of him.

"Oi, get off," Edmund groaned, shifting his weight and causing her to stir. The girl looked at him with wide, admiring green eyes. Edmund hoped she would leave soon. Alette hadn't been the first girl to wake up in Edmund's bed. The first was Alise, quickly followed by Carra and then Lydie and then Yolande. They had followed each other very rapidly because Edmund was constantly hoping that this one would make him feel better than the last. It never worked that well and Edmund was always at a loss about how to get rid of them in the morning without hurting their feelings. Indeed, Alette was looking at him with a very hurt expression at that very moment.

"You were crushing my ribs," Edmund said by way of explanation.

"Oh," she said sheepishly. "Sorry." She settled in beside him and put her arms around his chest. Edmund ground his teeth, wanting to dress her and push her out the door.

"Oh, Edmund," she sighed, happily, "I can't wait to dance with you at the next ball. Of course I shall enjoy dancing with all the young men, but you the very most."

"That's … nice," Edmund managed.

"Yes," she agreed and then, to Edmund's great amazement and relative boredom, she actually began rattling off the names of the young lords whom she hoped would dance with her! Sensing Edmund's distance, she got up and began to get dressed, talking quickly the whole time. "Edmund," she asked after a while, "whatever happened to that young lord that you used to run about with all the time? Cade was his name. He was always wonderfully fun to dance with."

Edmund, who had only been half listening, snapped his attention to her with force. "I dare say he was," he said, coldly. Edmund had asked all about for information on Cade, but could find no trace of the young man. He had practically given up by now. "I don't know what happened to him."

"A shame, that," she said, "oh, well, I shall still dance with you and Lord Kordon and Lord Fewell and Lord –" Alette was cut off by the door opening and to Edmund's complete and overwhelming horror, Peter walked into the room.

Alette, who still had several buttons undone gasped and clasped her dress close to her body. "Your Majesty," she sputtered, curtsying. "I'll just be … going …" she hurried out of the room, fastening the last few buttons on the way. Edmund shrank under his covers feeling utterly embarrassed.

"The servants told me I could come in," Peter said, not particularly apologetically, but not angrily either. "I wanted to make sure that you were coming to the banquet this afternoon. It's very important; it's Catherine's introduction to the kingdom."

"Um, of course I'm coming."

"I hadn't seen you today. It's past noon."

"Oh, I guess … um, never mind," Edmund stammered, not wanting to go into the details of why he was in bed so late today even though Peter must have some idea by now.

The brothers looked at one another for a few moments longer as though unsure what to say. Edmund was beginning to feel very angry with Peter for _not _yelling at him. He was sure that if Peter had discovered him in a similar situation a little more than a year ago, that he would have been very angry. Perhaps not as upset as if he had found Susan or Lucy in a similar situation, but angry all the same. Edmund knew what Peter was thinking, knew that his brother was so glad that it was a _girl_ that he wasn't going to say anything much to him.

"Are you going to marry Lady Alette?" Peter asked.

"What! _No_," Edmund said. "Aslan forbid," he added under his breath, shuddering.

Peter looked a bit stern. "If I had ever slept with a girl before my wedding, then I would have done the decent thing and married her."

"Well, good for you," Edmund said, sourly. He was becoming sick of Peter's proselytizing.

Peter didn't press the issue. "Wear something nice," he said, "lots of people are going to be at this event. I think that Aslan may even come. All of Ethnee's family is going to be there. I think that Lyla likes you."

Edmund cringed. Peter was right. Lyla was after him like some rabid animal. "I'm afraid I don't much like Ethnee's sisters. Marna is the only one in that family worth talking to … besides Ethnee of course," Edmund stuttered at Peter's glance, realizing his blunder a moment to late.

Peter ignored this. "We'll find you someone else, then," he said as though this were supposed to be reassuring.

_Lucy_

Lucy usually didn't mind awkward or embarrassing situations all that much. She had the ability to laugh things off and did not have the puffed up sense of pride that caused many people to become overly upset over those types of things. However, this situation was _very_ awkward and it was all Roydon's fault.

Ikram had begun courting Lucy rather openly after he returned from a brief trip back to his own country and Roydon had reacted very strangely to it. He was always asking where Lucy had been or what she had done when she was with Ikram. He often inserted himself their private conversations and meetings. At first, Lucy had thought that he must be a little in love with her after all, but this couldn't be because he still talked about Susan constantly despite the fact that Lucy was sure that Susan was barely aware that he existed. Then she thought that he must feel protective of her as a friend, but none of Lucy's other friends had reacted in this way. If Ikram had been considered to be somehow lacking then it might have been different, but as he was generally considered a noble, pleasant, and handsome young man, her friends were very encouraging. Then she thought that perhaps it was more like an older brother, but again, her own brothers hadn't acted anything like this. They had been a little reluctant, perhaps, about her having a real beau, but they hadn't acted overly hostile to Ikram or possessive of her. It was all very peculiar. Lucy probably would have become furious with Roydon and perhaps lost interest in him all together if his behavior had been of the brash, controlling variety that many men exhibited towards the women in their lives. However, Roydon didn't seem to be like this. His anger was directed much more at Ikram, of whom he was very suspicious than at Lucy to whom he seemed more hurt and confused than anything else.

At present, Lucy was sitting through an increasingly awkward luncheon with both Ikram and Roydon who had practically invited himself.

"Lucy," Roydon was saying to her. "I was hoping that you would visit the Quirrels with me tomorrow. I never see them anymore."

"I can't tomorrow Roydon," she said. "I promised Marna that I would sit with Ethnee – she is sick and likes to have family around."

"Perhaps next weekend?"

"We'll discuss it later," she said, frowning at him, sensible of the fact that it would appear rude to agree to go gallivanting with Roydon when Ikram was sitting right there – even if they were only friends. Roydon looked at her with more disappointment than she felt her words warranted. Roydon had rather childlike eyes and Lucy always felt so sorry for him when he was disappointed.

Ikram was always very polite, but his patience was understandably worn thin in Roydon's case. "Surely a … sociable … young lord such as yourself doesn't need a lady's company – a lady to whom you are wholly unrelated – just to go visiting."

"In this country, you don't have to be related to a woman or planning to marry her in order to talk to her. There is friendship between the sexes."

"Roydon!" Lucy reproved him.

"Are you suggesting that women and men cannot be friends in my country?" Ikram asked coldly. Lucy could see that this wasn't going anywhere good and she quickly intervened.

"Roydon," she said, giving him a significant look, "may I speak to you alone for a moment?" Of course he had to agree and when they had gone off a little ways, Lucy turned to him and sighed.

"You have to stop doing this!" she said.

"Doing what?"

"You know what I mean. You are being very rude to Ikram. Why are you doing this to me?"

Hearing it phrased in this way seemed to have an effect on Roydon. "I don't know, Lucy," he stammered miserably, running his hands through his hair in an absent way. "You're right. I tell myself that I am being horrid, but then I just keep doing it again and again as though I have no control over myself."

Lucy patted him on the arm. "You are probably just a little protective of me. Lots of people are, I guess. But Roydon, you _must _stop this."

"You're right. I'll try – I will stop, Lucy – Your Majesty." He gave her a half-hearted smile.


	6. Love and Marriage

**AN: Lucy and Edmund's sections have been reversed in this chapter for reasons which will become obvious as the chapter progresses.

* * *

**

**Chapter Six: Love and Marriage**

_Peter_

"Look at her crawl about," Ethnee sighed contentedly, watching her daughter scoot around their quarters, "isn't she just perfect?"

Peter took his wife's hand affectionately. "She really is," he said. He smiled at Ethnee. The young woman really had become much better at being a mother over the last couple of months. She showed much interest in Catherine who was now a rosy baby of ten months and who looked more and more like her mother every day. Well, at least she looked like Ethnee had looked before the birth. Over the last year or so Ethnee had become much thinner and paler. Sometimes, when Peter actually stopped to look at his wife, he felt a great pain. Ethnee was a ghost of her former self and had lost much of her beauty.

The young mother scooped Catherine up and held the child in her arms. "How was your day?" she asked Peter absently, wiping drool from the baby's chin.

"Good," he said, which was how he always answered this question. "Well," he admitted, "there is a bit of trouble with the Giants on our northern border. We've been encouraging the new humans to settle in that area because there aren't as many native creatures living there as in the rest of Narnia. It seems that the Giants have been threatening them – what's wrong, dear?" he asked, seeing that Ethnee had gone very pale.

"You're going to leave me," she said in a very faint whisper.

"What?"

"You're going to go to war with them and leave me here all alone and probably get killed!"

"What – Ethnee, it hasn't come to that yet! It hasn't come to anything like war –" Peter cursed himself for thinking that he could tell Ethnee about something like this. "It's nothing you should worry about, just a King's concerns."

Ethnee was now crying. "You're lying! You always lie to me as though I were a child," Ethnee looked very like a child at that moment. Much too young to be the mother of the baby that she was holding against her chest. "You – you must promise me that you won't go. Promise me that you'll never leave me!"

Peter gave a long sigh and looked away from her. "You know that I can't promise that, dear. I'm High King, and even if I weren't, do you honestly think that any man can promise a woman that he will never go off to war? But I'm not going _now_." Peter privately resolved not to go check on things in that area himself as he had previously planned. He would have to send someone else – perhaps Edmund. But no, it was too dangerous. It would have to be one of his older, more trusted lords who understood the risk.

"You hate me!" Ethnee cried with unusual passion, her breathing coming in deep gasps. "You want to leave me all alone – and with a baby too!"

Peter sighed. "You become panicked too easily Ethnee!" his voice had become impatient. "Think of what you're saying! Do you think that I would want to leave you, that I would want to _die_?" Catherine began wailing at Peter's loud tone of voice.

"You put Narnia first and me second! Admit it, you do!" Ethnee screamed.

"Ethnee . . ." Peter said, his voice softening, as she turned away from him. "Ethnee, please don't say things like that to me. I'm responsible for the fate of a large number of people. That always has to come first. It doesn't mean that I want it to be that way."

Ethnee began sobbing in earnest.

_Susan_

Susan was having tea with Lucy out on the pavilion when it happened. The most romantic moment of Susan's life, that is.

She was sipping her tea and talking pleasantly when Lucy spotted a single knight riding up from the forest road, towards Cair. "Who could that be?" Lucy asked, for the knight was dressed in fine armor of the sort that was normally reserved for parades and processions and was riding a fine white stallion.

"I don't know . . ." Susan said, pondering, for there was something very familiar about the knight. Suddenly, it hit her. "It's Torim," she exclaimed. "I wonder what he's doing."

"I think he's trying to be your knight in shining armor," Lucy said evenly, her expression quite inscrutable.

"But how did he know we would be here?" Susan laughed, realizing that Lucy was right.

"That's a good question," Lucy said.

Susan stood up and walked to the end of the pavilion. "What are you doing, you ridiculous man?" she called out, for he was now close enough to hear her voice. Despite her words, Susan's tone was teasing and fond.

Torim didn't answer, but drew closer and dismounted from his horse. Susan came down to meet him and as soon as she was near, he fell to one knee. "Oh, Susan, Queen of my heart!" he cried very loudly. "You are my one true love, the light that shines through the darkness onto my wretched soul," Susan almost laughed. She had heard this type of speech many times before and would have been irritated with it if she had thought that Torim said it totally seriously. But as usual with Torim, his tone was more than half mocking – not towards Susan but to the ridiculousness of the situation. "Without your love, I will surely die!" Torim went on. "Please say that you will marry me."

"Oh!" Susan gasped, for his face had gone very serious at this last statement. Of course, she should have known this was what he was going on about. She had lost count of the number of marriage proposals she had received, but this was the first one that she had ever even paused to consider. Susan had always told herself that it was unwise and detrimental to her position to consider marriage proposals. Torim's proposal came as a particular shock to her because they had spoken of marriage many times before and he had always assured her that he had no more wish for it than she did.

Susan looked into Torim's eyes. Despite his light and mocking tone, she fancied that she could see real longing and vulnerability there. In that moment, Susan knew that she was going to say yes. She knew that she had never felt for anyone the way she felt for Torim. She doubted that she ever would. Was it love? Perhaps.

When Torim heard her reply, he leapt up joyously and embraced her. Then he embraced Lucy, calling her "sister". At first Lucy, seemed a little flustered by this but she smiled at Susan cheerfully, and congratulated her.

_Lucy_

"I have heard that your sister is to be married soon," Ikram said as the two of them paced the length of the courtyard. Ikram had only recently returned to Narnia

"Ah, yes," Lucy replied. "To King Torim, of course. He's always been the only one able to truly capture Su's interest."

"You do not like him, am I correct?"

Lucy sighed at Ikram's perceptiveness. "It's horrible of me, isn't it? In a way, he's perfect for Su. You know, she secretly likes the idea of romance – but she's so practical that she doesn't want to admit it. Torim is the only one seems to realize this. But I just – I don't feel as though I can trust him."

"Brother-in-laws can be a blessing or a curse," Ikram stated enigmatically.

"Oh? And how would you know that, sir?" Lucy laughed.

"Two of my sisters are married – and one is betrothed. The husband of one of my sisters is my dearest friend, ready to lay down his life for me. The husband of the other is my enemy whom I suspect of trying to poison me. But you do not wish to hear about this?"

"No, no," Lucy objected. "It's … well, it's interesting."

Ikram laughed at this and Lucy, realizing how silly this sounded, laughed along with him.

"Still, though," Ikram said softly, turning away from her and running his finger along one of the more delicate flowers that was growing along the courtyard, "spring is a good time to be thinking of marriage."

This made Lucy feel rather uncomfortable and she didn't answer him.

Ikram went on. "Lucy, all I could think about while I was away was you. I couldn't wait to come back to you."

Lucy was feeling more and more awkward. Despite the fact that they were courting, Ikram wasn't usually given to grand speeches like this – at least not about her. She had a feeling that she knew what was coming next. Lucy cursed herself for not seeing it – the most obvious thing in the world – earlier. Of course, the purpose of courtship was marriage, but Lucy had never thought of Ikram's persistent attentions as leading anywhere. It was nice to have a man pay attention to her, but Lucy knew, deep down inside, that she was not in love with him.

"Ikram," Lucy said, before he could ask the question. "I – I'm sorry, but I can't marry you."

Ikram frowned. "You are considered young, among the Narnians, to be married, I know," he said. "But I would be willing to wait until you reach a more appropriate age."

"It – it's not that," Lucy faltered. "I don't – I can't _love_ you."

Ikram turned rather pale and Lucy felt quite wretched. "Then you are not as I thought," he whispered. "You knew, all along, how you felt, but allowed me to continue my suit. I did not think that you were that sort of lady, Queen Lucy."

"I'm not," Lucy said miserably, for she knew that he had every right to think this. It must have appeared that way to him. "I'm not that sort of person at all. I didn't mean to play with your feelings – I just didn't think. I am such a child."

"Come now," Ikram said, his voice softening, "I dare say that I have sprung all this on you suddenly. Shall we go on as before and perhaps I shall ask the question of you again in time?"

Lucy almost said yes. It would have been so easy to say yes and spare his feelings. But she couldn't knowingly lie to him. "Ikram," she breathed, "I'm sorry, but I meant it when I said I wasn't in love with you. I would have told you earlier if I had realized it myself."

Ikram's face darkened.

"Oh, can you honestly say that you loved me!" Lucy exclaimed. "Did you not seek a political match, first and foremost?"

"I don't know what you mean," Ikram replied, evasively. "In my land, we do not politely speak of being in love with a woman unless we are married to her. I think that I could have loved you as my wife, Lucy." This was said softly. "I will admite that my father _was_ hoping to secure a political match with Narnia – we can always use allies to help us against Calormen. He hoped that I would court Queen Susan, but I knew (and no offense meant to your sister), but I knew, upon meeting her, that she and I would not get along."

"So you settled on me instead," Lucy said, feeling a bit repulsed.

"Do not all royal marriages have a political component?" he asked. "It does not make my feelings for you insincere."

"I'm afraid we have rather different ideas about marriage," Lucy told him gently.

"Yes, I know," he gave a half-hearted laugh. "You Narnians romanticize it. You make it into something for the story-tellers. But I think that we would be happy together."

"Perhaps we would," Lucy acknowledged with a sigh. "You are a dear friend to me and I think we understand each other. But I can't marry someone whom I am not in love with."

"I know why," Ikram said, with a bit of bitterness. "It is because you love another."

"Another?" Lucy asked, distractedly.

"Yes, but never mind," Ikram said, seeming to restrain himself from speaking further. He kissed her hand gently. "I wish you much happiness, Queen Lucy." Lucy sighed as she looked at his handsome face. She had certainly made a mess of things. Why had she ever wanted a suitor?

_Edmund_

Edmund was pacing in the garden, paying little attention to the beautiful scenery that surrounded him. He was worried. Very worried. Seeing a lot of different women just wasn't good enough for his brother. Peter kept pushing Edmund to get married.

Edmund heard a soft noise behind him and turned to see a young man – in fact, it was Lucy's beau, Ikram and he was looking particularly dejected at the moment. "Good evening," Edmund said, politely, "how are you, sir?"

Ikram gave a bitter little laugh. "Not well. I'm afraid that your sister has thoroughly rejected me." He turned away from Edmund and touched one of the dew colored flowers, gently. Edmund wished that he could go away and leave Ikram to his thoughts, but now he was stuck and had to say something appropriately comforting.

"You know how girls can be," he said, tracing his foot in the dirt and feeling very immature. "They're so fickle."

Ikram looked up at him and smiled. Edmund hadn't meant anything in particular by the comment. He didn't think that Lucy _was_ especially fickle. He had only wished to comfort the young man. When Ikram looked at him, however, he felt an excited sensation beginning in the pit of his stomach.

"Yes, they are that," Ikram lowered his eyes. It was an innocent enough comment, but Edmund somehow _knew_ that it meant more than it seemed to. There was an indefinable _something_ about the way Ikram carried himself, his gestures, looks, and words that Edmund probably wouldn't have recognized before his friendship with Cade but which were now nearly unmistakable. All the same, Edmund wanted to make sure he was correct. He moved toward Ikram slowly. He could hear the young Prince's shallow breathing mimicking his own.

"You'll be leaving soon, won't you?" he asked softly as he approached.

"Tomorrow," Ikram said, eyes on the ground.

Edmund came to stand beside him, their faces very near. "And perhaps His Highness would like to have some fun before he leaves?" he whispered, touching Ikram's dark hair, gently. Edmund didn't allow his voice to falter despite his nervousness. He had never done anything like this before.

Ikram's head was bowed, his hands crossed in front of his body in an almost servile posture. "I would like that," he replied, his voice as soft as Edmund's.

Edmund smiled, a wave of relief washing over him. Then he thought of something. "You are certain that your courtship of my sister is over?" he asked.

"Quite certain," he bit his lip. "Lucy doesn't care for me, anyway."

"I see."

--- -- ---

The next night found Edmund in the garden again, but this time he was seated on the ground, curled up into a human ball. He was crying hot, angry, boyish tears of which he was very ashamed. Edmund didn't cry often; he hadn't even cried when he thought that the White Witch was going to kill him. The tears that he shed when he was alone in his room, after he had found out about the sacrifice Aslan had made for him were different; he wasn't at all ashamed of those tears.

It wasn't Ikram that he was upset about. Ikram was sweet and very handsome but Edmund had known that it was only a one night romance. He was crying because he thought he could see his future. He would marry some girl – most likely not a very nice one – and year after year, he would lie to her. Perhaps he would have an affair with some handsome lord and he would feel terribly guilty or perhaps he would remain faithful to his wife and feel terribly empty inside. Either way, he would be miserable. It seemed ridiculous now that he ever thought he could change. When Peter had caught him up in his bad behavior, he had actually thought that changing would be _easy_. He might as well try to change his skin color to blue. He wondered what Aslan would think of him. Being good was so hard.

Presently, when his crying had subsided a bit, he heard a gentle voice saying his name and felt someone tapping him on the shoulder. It was Marna.

Marna practically lived at Cair now. She mostly took care of Ethnee – sat with her when she was sick or lonely and sometimes she kept a motherly eye on little Catherine. Edmund found Marna easy to talk to because they were alike in one very crucial way Marna also preferred people of her own gender in her bed. Marna was one of the few people who knew about Edmund and Cade.

"Edmund, King Edmund, are you well?" she was saying, looking at him anxiously.

"I'm fine," Edmund rasped, rising to his feet. His tears had subsided, but he was certain that Marna knew he had been crying.

"Here, sit down," she said, tugging on his arm and moving him toward a bench. She offered him a handkerchief which made Edmund feel even more ridiculous. "What is wrong?"

"Oh, I have to get married – and I – and I don't think I can stand it!" he spit the last bit out fiercely and he proceeded to tell her all about Ikram and the current emotional dilemma which faced him.

When Edmund was finished with his tirade, Marna was silent. She looked off to the distance, thinking longer and harder than Edmund thought necessary. Finally in a low voice she said, "Marry me."

Edmund glared at her in amazement. "Please don't make jokes with me now," he said, a bit irritably.

"I wasn't joking, Edmund," she said softly. "No, listen," she said, stalling his reaction, "you need to marry to please your brother and your kingdom and for respectability's sake. Well, I need to marry because I'm sick of people calling me an old maid and because – because I don't want to live in my father's house forever. And…" here she paused for a long moment. "And because I wish to be a mother. I'm good with children. If you'll excuse the expression, we seem to be meant for each other."

Edmund starred at her, incredulous. It did seem to be a remarkably good solution and Edmund could already feel hope and relief washing over him. "You want to have children?" he asked finally. "That would mean that we would have to –"

"Well, yes," she admitted, blushing, "but I can assure you that I have no designs on you. It would only be to produce children. Besides, don't you want to be a father? You're wonderful with Catherine and people expect you to produce heirs."

"Well, yes, someday. But I don't think that my brother likes you very much."

"Good, I don't like him much either," Marna replied, winking. She then grew more serious. "Edmund, he can't have any serious complaint to offer against me. I have a good reputation and he can't say anything against my family – he is married to my sister!"

Edmund looked at Marna really closely for the first time. Marna had wild, red curls, freckles, and a trim, athletic body. She may have been what some would call pretty, but she certainly was no great beauty and her face was already beginning to show signs of age. Edmund thought that she must be at least ten years his senior. She always wore old, frumpy dresses. He smiled as he realized that none of this mattered in the least.

"I think that your idea is a good one, Marna," Edmund told her. "And I accept your proposal." She grinned and they shook hands over it.


	7. Leaving

**Chapter Seven: Leaving**

_Peter_

"And so negotiations have completely ceased?" Peter asked the centaur general who was handling things on the Narnia's northern border. He and Peter were walking hastily to the war room.

"How can we continue to negotiate with them, Sire? They have come onto Narnian land and attacked our citizens."

"Quite right, quite right," Peter sighed. "I just hate to see it come to this. It will be a difficult campaign."

"Not too much for us to handle, I think. Especially with such a brilliant general as Your Majesty leading us."

"I would hardly call myself a brilliant general!"

"You are too modest, Sire. You . . ." He stopped, for they had turned a corner and found Ethnee standing outside of the war room. Peter knew, upon looking at her, that she knew what was going on and that she was thoroughly upset. She looked as though she had been crying.

"Will you excuse me for a moment?" Peter asked the centaur. "Please tell the others that I shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

"Of course, sire," the creature bowed and left him.

Peter stood looking at Ethnee for long moments. "Come, dear," he said, "let's go talk." They found a corner. Peter stood, awkwardly, not knowing what to say to his heartbroken little wife. "Ethnee …"

"Peter, I know," she said, her voice shaking a bit, "you are going off to war. Don't – don't worry about me. I'm going to try to braver Peter, I really am."

"Ethnee …"

"No, no. I've been talking to my sisters about bravery. About how women have to be brave in different ways than men. I – I'm afraid it's not in my nature, but I am trying."

"I don't know what to say, Ethnee," Peter was really quite touched by this effort on her part, but it made him feel even guiltier about leaving her.

"I'm going to have another baby, Peter," she said, tears flowing from her eyes in earnest now, but she tried to smile, all the same. "It will be better this time. I promise."

"You are with child?" Peter asked, his heart sinking. He remembered how it had been with Ethnee last time, how much she had changed. She had become sick in both mind and body.

"Yes, yes," she said, trying to give him another smile. "Don't look like that, Peter! I am going to be better this time. I know I've been selfish to you." She wrapped her arms around her stomach and shivered a bit. Peter looked at her, so small and defenseless. She needed him more than Narnia right now.

"I'm not leaving, Ethnee," Peter said, dully.

"You're not?!" she asked, her face brightening instantly. "Oh – oh but Peter, I know that you must. You really must. You can't let me stop you."

"Ethnee, I'm not leaving," Peter said more decisively this time, wondering how he was going to pull this off. "I have plenty of people who can take care of the situation for me."

"You do? Oh, Peter!" Ethnee flung her arms about him in joy. She looked happier than he had seen her look in a long time. He knew that he would have been able to handle the situation better from the front line than he could from Cair, but he also knew that if he left Ethnee alone for another childbirth, that it could be the death of her.

_Susan_

"I've decided that I would like to have Calorman silk for my wedding dress," Susan proclaimed to her younger two siblings over breakfast. Peter wasn't present or she certainly wouldn't have said this as Peter thought that she spent rather too much money on dresses. Men just didn't understand that amount of effort and money that were required to make women look the way their lovers and husbands wanted them to look. "At first, I thought that I would have purple for my dress as that is the most fashionable color in Narnia at the moment. Torim said that Terebinthian brides usually wear orange, but I look dreadful in orange. I finally settled on white – you remember – brides in our old world used to wear it and I look very nice in white."

Edmund yawned very rudely and even Lucy was unable to look interested.

"We aren't sure how many people will be there," Susan went on, deciding that it would be good for her brother and sister to understand the effort that went into planning a wedding. "We want to open it to the whole kingdom, but we aren't sure where we will have enough room."

"Susan," Lucy interrupted, "have you thought about where you will live once you are married?"

"Well, Narnia, I suppose."

"But won't Torim want to live in Terebinthia?"

"Well of course I shall have to visit Terebinthia," Susan said, throwing back her hair. "Torim said that the people will be very eager to see their new Queen. We thought that sometimes I could visit him in Terebinthia and sometimes he could visit me in Narnia, and that way we could be together much of the time."

"I see," Lucy said.

"Did you finally set a date?" Edmund asked.

"No. But not until next year, certainly. I am still angry that you are getting married before me, you know, Edmund. Why, you are practically a child!"

"I'm not a child. And my getting married before you is due entirely to the fact that Marna does not require yards of Calorman lace and foreign entertainers for our wedding."

"Calorman silk," Susan corrected him, absently. "Oh, Ed, do let me help Marna pick out her dress. She doesn't seem to pay much attention to fashion and I know that I could find her something that would show off all that pretty red hair."

"Absolutely not."

"Ed!"

"I've been given orders by Marna not to let you anywhere near any of her dresses."

"You can be overenthusiastic sometimes, Su," Lucy put in.

"Why I never! I'm afraid that you've ended up with a wife who is just as rude as you are, Ed," Susan said, but with a good-natured twinkle in her eye.

"I certainly hope so," Edmund said, lightly.

_Edmund_

It was Edmund's wedding day. He couldn't help but be nervous. He fidgeted as he regarded himself in the mirror, pale and drawn, dressed in a tunic of purple velvet. He didn't regret agreeing to marry Marna as it did not seem likely that he would ever want to marry anyone else. He was most nervous about the wedding night. He had slept with girls before and it didn't sicken him, exactly, but was only rather unexciting. Marna was good looking enough, but she often treated him as a big sister or even a mother would and this was not at all conducive to the idea of making love to her.

Edmund ran his hand through his hair for the millionth time. He was a wreck.

"Edmund," a voice said behind him. It was Peter. Edmund turned to look at his brother and he thought that Peter must have read something of the conflicting emotions on his face for the next thing his brother asked him was "How are you?"

"I'm fine. A little nervous about the ceremony," he conceded.

"Ed, I know that I've said this before, but I don't understand why you are doing this."

"I should think you would be happy," Edmund muttered, unable to look at his brother. "Did you not want me to get married?"

"Well … yes. But Marna is so much older than you and it just seems like such a rushed and such an strange match."

Edmund didn't say anything to this. Peter, of course, did not know about his "arrangement" with Marna, so it probably did seem strange to him.

"Do you love her?"

Edmund shrugged and didn't answer.

"Ed, listen," Peter said, slowly. "I didn't mean to make you rush into marrying someone you don't care for. I know I've been pushing you to marry, but that was only because I was trying to get you on the right track. For _your_ sake, not mine. Please don't marry Marna unless you're sure. If you don't think you love her, I'm sure we can find you a young woman who you do love – it's not impossible, you know."

Edmund sighed. Peter still didn't understand. There was a time when Edmund thought that perhaps he could find a young woman to love – he had now come to believe that it would never happen.

"I'm sure that I want to marry Marna, Peter," he said, firmly.

Peter hesitated, but then spoke. "Is it because she – well, she's so boyish," he had difficulty getting the words out, as though the verbal acknowledgement of Edmund's weakness hurt him. "I mean, is that why you enjoy being with her?"

Edmund blushed. "I don't think anyone would mistake Marna for a man, Peter."

"Well, no. But she does seem boyish all the same. She's so strong and athletic and stubborn."

"I never thought of her as boyish before," Edmund said thoughtfully, for he truly never had. "She's so nurturing."

"You are sure you want to marry her?" Peter asked.

"Positive."

"Then I wish you well."

--- -- ---

It had been a small wedding with only the most essential family and friends present. Marna was accepting the congratulations of her guests when she was nearly bowled over by her sister.

"Oh, Marna," Ethnee gasped, hugging her tight, "I'm so happy for you. And you will always be here to take care of me now, won't you? I always knew that someday we would all get married and separate, but now you, at least, will always be here for me."

Ethnee had been a big factor in Marna's decision to marry Edmund, though she didn't tell him about this. She was becoming increasingly concerned about her sister who did not look well and who seemed to have become rather forgetful of late. "Come and sit down, Ethnee," she said. Ethnee's pregnancy was beginning to show and she was quite flushed. "Of course I'll always be here for you. But you really need to learn get along on your own a bit."

"I know," Ethnee sighed, as Marna directed her to the nearest chair. "I promised Peter that I would be a better wife but I'm not strong like you, Marna. Edmund is lucky to have you."

Marna sighed. Ethnee didn't know about her arrangement with Edmund. She didn't even know that Marna didn't care for men. Ethnee hated new bits of information, especially ones that forced her to have an opinion. Anyway, Ethnee had always been horrible at keeping secret as she was rather a favorite of their father's. Kiara and Lyla both knew and neither of them had taken it well.

"Forget about being a good wife," Marna told Ethnee. "I'm more worried about you wellbeing and your child … well children. You must take better care of yourself."

"Don't be ridiculous, Marna. I do take care of myself. I never really _do _anything." Ethnee sounded so sad and serious about this that Marna had to hug her.

--- -- ---

When Edmund went up to his room, it was almost a shock to see Marna lying in his bed wearing very little clothing and reading one of his books.

"Come to take my virtue, have you?" she said, not looking up. "Well you took long enough about it." Then she grinned at him and he saw that she was teasing and some of the tension was broken. He had, in fact, been hesitating coming upstairs. "I don't mean to make you feel awkward," she said, "my ladies insisted on undressing me – apparently its some sort of bridal tradition. Who would have guessed?"

"I know," Edmund said, who now remembered this and was surprised that Marna wasn't aware of it. He came and sat down beside her on the bed. "Are we going to – you know?" he asked, managing to not sound too embarrassed.

"We don't have to tonight if you do not wish it," she said. "But we'll have to soon anyway – I'm not getting any younger, you know. It might as well be tonight, if you will."

Edmund shifted uncomfortably. She was still so business-like!

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking more closely at him. "You have been with women before, correct?"

"Yes, of course," he said.

"Then there should be no problem," she said biting her lip and Edmund saw that she was nervous also.

"There _isn't _a problem," Edmund said, as much to convince himself as her. He moved as if to kiss her and she froze. "I-I should kiss you, shouldn't I?" he asked, unsure.

"Oh – oh, yes, I suppose so," she stammered.

He tried to kiss her again and again she pulled away. "Now what?" he asked beginning to get irritated.

"I –I am not sure," she stammered. "What about if I kissed you instead?"

"Oh. Good idea," he said, relaxing, for he now felt that the pressure on him was removed.

_Lucy_

Susan looked at the young man who was bowing before her and sighed. After the announcement of her marriage, several men had come to her in absolute despair. She was rather surprised that this particular young man seemed so upset. She had known that he admired her in a vague sort of way, but he hadn't been nearly as persistent as many of her suitors and she had thought that he had perhaps his fancy for her had faded.

"Lord Roydon," she told him very formally. "I am marrying King Torim in a few months time and nothing will change my mind. I am sorry if you admired me, but –"

Roydon had gone so pale that Susan was really alarmed. "I suppose that there is nothing that I can say to you, then. You must know that I am in love with you, but I won't burden you with unwanted feelings. I won't bother you again."

He turned to leave, but Susan stopped him with a hand on the shoulder. "You would not be happy with me once you really knew me, I think. We are not the same sort of person at all. But you really are a nice young man and a very noble knight from what I understand. Perhaps there is some other lady you could set your sights on?" Susan now remembered that Lucy once had a fancy for this young lord. Most likely her sister had outgrown the attraction by now, but she did think that Roydon wouldn't be a bad match for Lucy.

"No, there is no one," Roydon said, his face the picture of sorrow.

--- -- ---

Lucy found Roydon in the armory polishing his sword.

"My lord," she said to him, very formal, "I heard that you were to leave us."

Roydon smiled at her, his face gentle and somehow sorrowful. "Yes, your brother needs knights to see to the giants in the North, my Queen."

"And you volunteered? Forgive me, Lord Roydon, but you have never seemed the type of man eager for a battle."

Roydon colored. "You think me a coward, my Queen?"

"Of course not. It is only that there are some men who love battles well and are good in combat. But you, if you will forgive this insult to your pride, you were never exceptional in any of the tournaments though you were certainly as noble and courtly as any knight in Narnia." Lucy stopped herself before she began gushing over him like schoolgirl.

"Ah," Roydon sighed, and he dropped his formal tone. "I know that I am not the best of knights, Lucy, my friend, but I would like to prove myself in battle. I have never been to a battle."

Lucy closed her eyes and told herself that she would _not _be weak and beg him to stay. The last thing a man needed at a time like this was a woman clinging to his coat tails! Especially a woman who was not his kin or his love. Lucy had thought, now that the sting of rejection had loosened its hold on her young pride, perhaps he had come to mean less to her and that she could in fact love him only as a friend. She saw that it was not so. If only she were a man and could ride into battle beside him!

"You are doing this to impress my sister?" she asked, a bit incredulously. Surely he couldn't still be pining after Susan when Su had never shown the faintest sign, so far as Lucy could see, that she even liked him at all. Besides, everyone knew that Susan was to be married very soon.

Roydon's face broke and Lucy saw real anguish in his eyes. "Impress her? No. I know that Queen Susan is betrothed and I would not dishonor her even if I had that power. But Lucy," and now his voice faltered, "every time I see her I – I –" he could not go on. "I must leave", he said a moment later. "I must get her out of my head."

Lucy did not think this running away, but only felt very sorry for Roydon and embraced him sincerely. "I wish that you would forget all your troubles, Roydon, but I fear that everyone wants someone or something they cannot have."

Roydon looked down at her and something like amazement, a new sort of awareness came over his face. Lucy released him and turned to go. Roydon stopped her and he dropped to one knee. "I would have the most jolly and generous and brave of Queens bless me before I go into battle, Lucy."

Lucy was rather shocked. She was often asked this sort of thing by the Narnian creatures, especially the Talking Beasts who seemed to think her their special champion, even among her siblings, but men rarely asked her this. Why should they when they had a King as striking and battle-hardened as Peter and a Queen as beautiful as Susan to do this sort of thing? Roydon was really the last person in Narnia that she would have expected this of, as he still seemed to think of her as being quite young, but she kissed him on both cheeks. "May you go with my full blessing, Lord Roydon and, one hopes, with the blessing of Aslan," she tried to make her voice both kind and regal, but her brow furrowed worriedly. She realized that they were both fully grown up now and that this put a new wall between them.

"Thank you, my Queen," Roydon said and seemed ready to leave, but changed his mind at the last minute. "Lucy," he said, a bit shyly, "may I write to you while I am away? I know that most subjects would be glad to bear a letter to a Queen of Narnia if they were coming back this way and I have no relatives who would care to receive a letter from me anyway."

Lucy smiled at him. "Of course you may write to me, Roydon."


	8. Life

**Chapter Eight: Life**

_Peter_

Lucy's cordial could do many marvelous things. It could heal horrible wounds and sicknesses. It could bring people back from the brink of death and make them as good as new in a matter of minutes. Over the years, Lucy had learned, however, that there were certain things that her cordial could not do. It could not, for example, bring people back from death. It could not re-grow limbs that had been hacked off. It was also, incidentally, not much good for women in labor as it normally hindered, rather than aided, the bringing forth of a child.

They called Lucy to her birthing room, but Lucy could only wait and worry as her sister-in-law struggled.

--- -- ---

Peter knew that this was not right. He had thought that this birthing would be less stressful. They had both been through all this before. But this time everything was different. Ethnee's ladies rushed in and out of the room where she labored with much more urgency than before. Peter tried see his wife, but was immediately pushed out of her room. This was women's work, they told him. This made Peter rather angry. He was High King and let himself be pushed around by a bunch of women!

Peter sat, staring at his boots for a good long time. He no longer had any idea how much time had passed. It could have been more than a day. The curtains were drawn and Peter made no attempt to look outside. He felt sick, out of himself, as though he was being separated from his body and he couldn't imagine why this feeling had come over him. The waiting room had gone silent. No one was bustling around anymore. Earlier, Edmund and some of Peter's lords had been waiting with him, but it seemed that everyone had tired. He must have been waiting many hours.

Presently, the door to Ethnee's room opened and Lucy came out. Peter hadn't known that Lucy was in Ethnee's room. Peter saw that his sister's face and eyes were quite red.

"Peter … oh, Peter," she choked when their eyes met. Still, Peter's mind could not comprehend what his heart had known since before she approached him. He still had not stood up, so she crouched down taking both his hands in hers.

"Lu," he said, and thought that she would cry at his use of the old childhood nickname. "Lu, what's wrong? Ethnee … is something wrong with Ethnee?"

"Peter, I am so sorry," Lucy sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Ethnee … she didn't make it. She wasn't strong enough. There was nothing I could do and I – I -- I'm so sorry, Peter."

Peter leapt up and began pacing in small, agitated circles. "Didn't make it? What do you mean by that? Surely, Lu, your cordial …"

"We've discussed this before, Peter," she choked. "It's no good in these situations. At least not until after the baby is born and she died before – before – perhaps it would have been better to cut her, but that is so rarely done in Narnia that the midwife had no skill and was afraid of killing her and the baby."

Peter looked straight at his sister, not understanding. "I must see her, I must see Ethnee."

"Peter, no!" Lucy exclaimed, but Peter had already rushed past her and into Ethnee's room.

There were several women gathered in the room and they all eyed him warily. Peter realized that Lucy had been sent to give him the news. But his attention was soon drawn away from them and toward the bed. A sheet was drawn over a small body – surely it couldn't be Ethnee. This person seemed small enough to be a child hiding under the bedclothes. Peter approached the bed and drew back the sheet. When he saw her, he thought that his heart must have skipped several beats. He could not even think for many seconds, but only stared at her. Her face was pale and Peter thought that he could still see the sheen of sweat from her childbirth glistening upon her brow. She looked, as always, like an angel. For some reason, Peter was focused on her eyelashes which seemed duller and not at all like the beautiful gold frames to her blue eyes that he remembered. She was smiling a little – her face more peaceful than he had seen it in a good long while as though all the swirling, disturbing emotions of her life had melted away. It was at that moment that Peter realized that he had never understood her. After a long while, he touched her face and found that she was already cold. It came to Peter suddenly that he would never see those eyes open again, that he would never come to know the beautiful soul that rested inside this woman he had married. He felt his knees buckling.

Hands caught him and somehow managed to get him into a chair. Women worriedly bustled about him, but their words were like the chattering of the dumb animals of Peter's own world. Then, Lucy's voice seemed to come from very far away and Peter's blurred vision focused, his ears opened.

"Peter, Peter! Are you all right?" Lucy was asking. "Peter!"

There were fewer ladies in the room now and Edmund and Susan were there. How long had he been staring at Ethnee? Lucy was trying to give him a drink from her cordial, but Peter brushed her away, remembering that he was always telling her to save it for life and death situations. Susan wrapped her arms around him, crying, but Peter could not cry. Suddenly, a cry, so loud that it ripped through Peter's mind, pierced the room. He recognized it for what it was immediately.

"What is that?" he demanded anyway.

"Why Peter – that's – that is your son," Lucy said. "I was going to tell you before you ran in here –"

"My son," Peter repeated, as though not understanding the word.

"They took the baby from Ethnee in the end," Susan put in gently. "He's a beautiful child – healthy, with not a mark on his body."

"I … I have a son?" He looked in the direction of the crying to see a woman lifting an infant from his crib, soothing his tears. He realized that he had not even asked about the child. Had forgotten that there was a child.

"Would you like to hold him?" Lucy asked.

"Hold – hold him? I should, shouldn't I?"

Peter saw his sisters looking at him with concern. After a few minutes, someone handed him the baby. When he first looked into his son's eyes, Peter felt only emptiness. This had been what he wanted. What he had to have for Narnia – perhaps even for his own pride. Peter knew that he should notice what the baby looked like, but all he could see was that the child seemed large to have come out of Ethnee – surely Catherine was not this large when she was born. Peter realized that for this, he had killed Ethnee. His eyes filled with tears and his hands began to shake.

"I can't hold him," he said, hastily pushing the baby into Susan's arms. He found that he was breathing very heavily and he buried his face in his hand, trying to make the world make sense again. Susan and Lucy fussed over the baby, but Edmund spoke to him.

"Peter you should go get some sleep. You look awful."

Peter looked at his brother. "You're wearing your nightclothes," he said with a dreamy sort of amazement.

"What? Yes, I came as soon as I heard about Ethnee, of course."

"What are you doing wandering about the castle in your nightclothes?" Peter asked, for some reason infinitely relieved at being able to focus on this. "And you a King of Narnia!"

Edmund opened his mouth as though to give angry retort, but snapped it shut again. "You are right, Peter. I'll change immediately, but please go to bed."

"I can't sleep," Peter droned. "I know I can't sleep." Nevertheless, he allowed Edmund to help him up and steer him toward the doorway. Peter looked back into the room and saw that they had covered Ethnee again. Everyone was grouped away from the body. All but one, that is.

"Marna," Peter whispered, shrugging off Edmund and approaching the solitary figure sitting by the bed.

"Perhaps you should sleep as well, my dear," Edmund said, coming to stand beside Peter and looking at his wife with concern.

Marna shook her head. "I have just been sleeping." When Peter heard her voice, he knew that she felt sorrow as much as he – maybe even more. "I must stay up with her. It is tradition on the islands where we come from. To keep her company and guard the body from harm."

"Don't be ridiculous," Susan said, but her voice was gentle. "No one is going to harm the body here."

"I'm not being ridiculous!" Marna snapped. "It is very important."

"I'll sit with her, if you like, dear," Lucy offered.

"No. I'm her older sister. I'm supposed to watch after her.

Marna had understood Ethnee, Peter realized. Marna and maybe some of Ethnee's other sister's, but no one else. _He _had certainly never understood her. And now he never would.

_Susan_

"Torim, I do not think I should go with you tomorrow …" Susan told her husband.

"Susan we've been over this. I want to show my nation their new Queen. You were supposed to come for a visit months ago."

"I know … but then Peter. I don't think that Peter is over Ethnee's death yet. I need to be there for him. We have always supported one another, he and I."

"Susan, it's been months since Ethnee's death! Are you never going to think of us rather than Peter? I can't help it that Ethnee died only a month after our marriage. This is beginning to be politically harmful to me. My men whisper that I have chosen a wife who cares nothing for learning of our land."

Susan flushed. "Surely, you remember that I am a Queen in my own right, sir?"

"I do," he said, with unusual gentleness. He came and wrapped his arms around her. "Please come back with me, Susan," he whispered in her ear. "You have been taking too much worry onto yourself of late, anyway. And I am eager to show you off."

Susan turned to face towards him. He was right, she was being ridiculous and selfish. She was his wife now. "I will come back with you," she sighed, "but I will worry about my brother."

"By the time you get back, he will be a healed man," Torim reassured her.

--- -- ---

A week later, Susan stood on the deck of Torim's ship, which did not seem nearly so nice as many of the Narnian ships to Susan, although she was told that it was marvelously fast. She had her hood pulled up high over her head, protecting against the cold and threat of rain. She still had a bad feeling about going to Terebinthia, but the ship was to leave in an hour.

"Susan," Edmund said, approaching her and speaking softly, "I wish that you would reconsider this. Narnia needs you."

"I must think of my husband. And I will be back very soon, my brother," here she ruffled his hair as she had done when he was a little boy and for once, he smiled at the gesture.

"You should at least take more people with you," Edmund said. "I worry about you going off with all these Terebinthians with only a few of your ladies."

"Why anyone would think that I was leaving with a criminal, not with my own husband!" Susan exclaimed. Edmund seemed about to speak, but Susan interrupted him, changing the subject. "Listen, Ed. You and Lucy must look after Peter while I am gone. He is not the same since Ethnee died. I know that you are used to Peter and I looking after you, but we are all grown-ups now and we must all support one another."

At another time, she thought that Edmund would have hated being reminded that he was the younger, but now he nodded. "I know that Peter needs support, Su. I think Lucy and I can see to it that he remembers to live again."

Susan felt like crying as she heard his words. She knew that she should be the one doing these things for Peter. "I'm counting on you, Edmund," she said, simply, turning away in fear that he would see the tears gathering in her eyes.

_Edmund_

Edmund found Marna lying in bed at well past noon. He opened the curtains, letting in the light of day and his wife groaned.

"Edmund," she snapped, keeping her back to him, "I am sick and I am in mourning. Must you do that?"

"It has been months since Ethnee died and you stay in bed far too much."

"And how would you feel if your sister died?

Edmund thought about this for a moment. He knew that Marna had always wondered what Ethnee saw in Peter, but Edmund had always wondered what _Peter_ saw in _Ethnee_. Still, Ethnee had been a good enough person and Peter had seemed to care for her. Edmund had been shocked and saddened by her death. "Horrible," he admitted. He got into bed and lay down beside her. "You should get out of this room," he said, putting his arm around her. "Let's go riding. You love riding."

"I can't go riding."

Edmund sighed. He should have known she would be stubborn! He pulled back her hair. "I'm worried about you," he whispered in her ear. He touched her neck and found that he skin was soft and almost inviting. He began to kiss her.

"Edmund, what are you doing?" she sighed.

"Kissing you," he said, as though it should have been obvious.

"Why?"

Edmund paused to think about this. "Because you like it," he said, finally.

"I don't," she insisted. "I feel as though I am going to be sick. Hardly a kissing mood."

"You are disgusted by me."

"I'm not. But why should you care?" she sat up and looked at him and Edmund saw that her eyes had dark rings around them. "There are plenty of far prettier girls that you could kiss, if you wanted to. But I do not think you truly do."

"You are my wife."

"And we had an arrangement."

This made Edmund angry and he jumped up and began pacing the floor in agitation. "Damn it Marna! When I'm with you – it's not as bad as being with those other girls before. Sometimes I think that I could stand it." He turned around and looked at her imploringly. "Sometimes I think that I could _actually _be normal. I mean, for the rest of my life."

"Not as bad, but not as good either, I'll wager," she said. "Edmund, it's the same for me. You are a good man -- no don't shake your head like that -- you are. But you and I will _never _be able to make one another happy in that way."

Edmund began toying with the velvet blanket. "I wasn't asking you to change, Marna. I know we had an agreement. I wouldn't care what you did with women, as long as you didn't sleep with other men."

Marna put a hand on his cheek, sympathetically. "Edmund, honey … you – you haven't been with anybody since we were married, have you?"

Edmund shook his head and attempted to laugh. "I'm not even sure how. I mean, how I would meet someone. Maybe I don't even need … that."

Marna took both his hands. "I think you do. I know you wish that you didn't – don't you think that I wish the same? It will become easier to live with yourself in time – when I was your age, I could not accept it, either."

Edmund punched a pillow, suddenly angry. "This is all Cade's fault!" he burst out suddenly. "He made me like this. I never would have –"

"You shouldn't blame someone else. If it were that easy, then all those girls after your brother sent Cade away should have changed you back."

Edmund fumed and bit down hard on his lip. "Sometimes I hate myself," he said, dully.

"Edmund!" she cried and hugged him, fiercely.

"Do you know what happened to me when I first came into Narnia?"

"Yes," she said, patting his arm. "You don't have to retell me."

"Ever since then, I've tried so hard to be a good person. I don't say this to make excuses, but I think it's harder for me than for some. Take Lucy for example. I don't think she could be a bad person if she tried with all her might. If it weren't for this one thing then I might have actually succeeded."

"You are a good person."

He leaned in and tried to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"What is wrong?" he knew that his voice sounded shy. "I thought that you were trying to have a baby?"

She gave a choked sort of laugh. "Not _trying _anymore."

He smiled at her, suddenly feeling light. "You mean –"

She covered her mouth as though to keep back sobs. "I am with child," she confirmed.

"But Marna, what's wrong?" he asked, alarmed. "I thought this was what you wanted. Why, it was your idea!"

"I know, I know! But I am scared, Edmund! My own sister just died in childbirth. My mother died in childbirth with my youngest sister. Did I ever tell you that?"

She hadn't. Marna rarely talked about her mother. "But you are strong, Marna. And – and I love you. No, no," he said seeing her frown, "not like _that_ exactly. Not the way a husband is supposed to love a wife. But I love you all the same."

She looked up at him and smiled, placing her hands in his once again. "You are happy about the baby, then. I am glad. I wasn't really sure that _you_ wanted it, Edmund. And I love you too."

_Lucy_

Lucy sat at her writing table, absorbed in one of Roydon's letters.

"_I have been thinking about you a lot, Lucy. About our walks on the beach and rides through the forest and about how we used to visit all of our Talking Beast friends together. I introduced you to many, but you knew even more than I! Some of the younger knights – the ones without families -- tell me that they think of their childhoods when a battle looms near. I never had much of a childhood, so I think of those times instead. You always made me feel so carefree and open – just like a child. I must thank you for that, my friend …"_

A hand tugged at Lucy's skirt and she gently brushed it away.

"_I do not know when I shall see Narnia again. Things are at a stalemate here. We could use King Peter …"_

The hand tugged a bit more insistently. "Aunt Lucy," a small voice said, not too impatiently.

"What is it, dear?" Lucy asked, looking down at her three-year-old niece. Catherine was a doll of a child. She still looked a great deal like Ethnee, with the unmistakable ringlet curls and clear blue eyes. Lucy enjoyed watching Catherine and often volunteered for the job when the child's caretakers were otherwise occupied.

"Where is my mother?" the child asked, very distinctly. Lucy sighed. Catherine was a sweet and generous girl, but was unusually solemn for such a young child.

"I did not think you remembered your mother, darling," Lucy said, flabbergasted and unsure of how to answer this question. Lucy took Catherine in her arms and sat the little girl in her lap.

Catherine scrunched up her face. "I think I do – just a little. Is my mother dead, Aunt Lucy?"

Lucy sighed again. She knew Ethnee's death had not been properly explained to Catherine. Everyone thought that she would be too young to understand or to remember Ethnee much after a little time had passed. "Do you know what 'dead' means, Catherine?"

"It means that I will never see her again, right?"

"Well," Lucy said, "not for a very, very long time. I'm so very sorry, Catherine. Your mother was sweet and beautiful – just like you." She touched Catherine's cheek and patted her hair. "Do you feel badly right now?"

"No," she said, after considering this a bit, though she sounded troubled. "I don't want to talk about this anymore, Aunt Lucy. Can we play?"

"Of course. How would you like to go visit your baby brother, Jonathan? I mean, if he's not asleep." Jonathan had been named after Lucy's grandfather.

Again, Catherine considered carefully. "Yes, I would like that." She slid off Lucy's lap and went over to where she had been playing with several of her toys on the floor. She picked up what Lucy saw was a white, stuffed rabbit.

"I shall take Jonathan my best bunny," she whispered. "Because he doesn't have a mother either."

Lucy was not sure how bunnies were related to not having a mother, but she had given up trying to dissemble the thoughts of the little girl ages ago. "That's very sweet, Catherine. Come on, then." She picked her up, gently.

--- -- ---

"Edmund, do you ever worry about Catherine?" Lucy asked her brother later.

"Not in particular," replied Edmund, who was absorbed in some documents. "Why?"

"I worry about her. She's much too somber for such a small girl."

"I think that's just her nature, Lu," Edmund mused. "She takes after Peter – very serious and all that."

"Still, it will be hard for her. Growing up without a mother."

"True. But she has you and Susan. And I could never tell that Ethnee was so great a mother anyway."

"You shouldn't say that, Ed," Lucy reproached him. "Ethnee had some problems at first, but she loved Catherine and became a good mother in the end, I think."

"Maybe you are right. But maybe Peter will marry again."

"Not anytime soon, I think," Lucy told him, sighing. Then she changed the subject. "Well, soon Susan will be a mother and you will be a father and I will have so many nieces and nephews that I won't know what to do!"

Edmund smiled at her.


	9. Worry

**AN: Thanks for all the reviews, guys. Even if I don't always get to reply, I always appreciate each and every review.**

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**Chapter Nine: Worry**

_Peter_

"I wish that you would reconsider this, Peter." Edmund said to his brother.

"What is there to reconsider?" asked Peter who was trying on armor. "I should have gone to battle the Giants ages ago, but first I was concerned about Ethnee and then … well, I've been very selfish these last months, Ed. I've just been wallowing in my grief."

"I don't think you've been that selfish," Edmund told him, sincerely. "Your wife died. Who could get over that easily? I do not think anyone begrudged you for it."

"Then they should have. I am High King of Narnia, responsible for all. I cannot be thinking of myself. From now on I will _not_ think of myself."

"I know that you want to be a good King, but are you sure that this is the way? Would you sacrifice your happiness, your peace of mind for Narnia?"

"I would sacrifice my life for Narnia."

Edmund bowed his head. "As would I. Or at least I would die for Narnia. Refusing to live my life is another matter."

"I'm not refusing to live my life!" Peter burst out. "Narnia is my life," this made Edmund sigh. "Anyway," Peter continued, "they've needed me in the Northern campaign for a long time. Any good King would do the same."

"Any King but me," Edmund said, looking down at his feet. Edmund seemed quite reluctant to stay here in Narnia when others were risking their lives. It was an admirable quality and Peter was proud of his brother for it, but he was beginning to tire of Edmund's constant insistence on going with him.

"We've already discussed this, Ed. I need you more here than I do there."

"I still say you are trying to protect me," Edmund sighed. "I would feel so much better if I were with you. Lucy would make a better ruler in your absence than I and I think I could help much in this war."

"You cannot hide it, Ed," Peter said, looking fondly at his younger brother. "You wish to go because you are worried about me. As though I were a child that needed looking after! Did you know that even Lucy offered to go with me?"

"I did not. But I would feel better if she did."

"What, and risk your sister's life?"

"Lucy is good with the bow and brave enough to best any man in battle. And I know that you would make sure she was in far less danger than you. I know that battles are dangerous, but Peter, you don't – you don't _want _to die do you?"

This surprised Peter. "Of course I don't want to die! What are you on about?"

"I know you are not suicidal, but sometimes I think you would not care so much to die. Ethnee's death nearly killed you, I think."

Peter turned away from him. "I can make no guarantees on my safety. You know that. This is a war, Ed. But I have no desire to throw away my life needlessly."

"What of Catherine and Jonathan?"

Peter did not look at Edmund. "What of them?"

"Are you not worried about leaving them?"

"What would you have me do, Edmund?!" Peter practically yelled, turning on his brother. Edmund drew back, alarmed and Peter realized that he had raised his voice. It was unusual for him to loose his calm in such a way, but Edmund had touched on a sore point. "It is my duty to go," he said in a forced calm. "Even if I were not a King, men with families have always gone to war. Why, our own father went off to war back in that other place – England. You don't think _he _was a bad father, do you?"

Edmund shuffled his feet and didn't answer.

"You _do_?"

"No. I know he had to go. It is just – sometimes I think if he had been around, I might not have been such a little prig when I first came to Narnia. It just upset me a lot at the time."

"I remember."

"Sometimes I think that I may have turned out different, if he had been around."

Peter thought he knew what Edmund was alluding to, but he had resolved that he would never talk directly to Edmund about that young man he had sent away. As far as he was concerned, it was an indiscretion that was left in Edmund's past. He tried not to hold it against his brother – many young men were unsettled and maybe it had just been Edmund's way of rebelling or of being young and stupid. It was an odd way, surely, but his brother had never quite fit into the mold. At any rate, Edmund seemed very happy with Marna. Peter had his doubts at first, but they really made a wonderful couple.

"It is better that I should be gone now," Peter said finally, "when they will not remember my absence and are little more than babes in arms. I have a feeling that I shall have to deal with this problem sooner or later."

Edmund looked at Peter keenly. "You do not plan on coming back soon, do you?"

"I cannot say," he replied evenly. "I know that you will take care of things, should I come back sooner or later or never. I have complete confidence in you and Susan and Lucy."

"Hopefully Susan will be home soon," Edmund said, trying to laugh. "I always resented you two telling me what to do, you know. Now, I do not know how we will make it without you."

--- -- ---

Catherine had given him a little yellow flower and kissed him bravely on the cheek when he told her that he had to leave. He had touched the curls gently and nearly cried, but held back because he did not want to upset the child.

They had handed him his son and Peter had kissed him on the forehead. Peter realized that he hadn't been to see the boy nearly enough. He did not think that anyone had noticed. Many men did not take much notice of their children until they were at least old enough to talk. The truth was, every time Peter looked at Jonathan, he was reminded of his own failure. He had truly failed Ethnee – failed to keep her safe, to make her feel loved and protected.

Peter rode away from Cair Paravel at a swift gallop, not looking back.

_Susan_

Susan was with child and not liking it much. Torim was so concerned over her health that he made her stay inside most of the time. Terebinthia was not at all like Narnia. Susan had spent her first few weeks in the land in the capital and port city of Elondos. Elondos was bigger than any town in Narnia (though Torim told her, nothing compared to most Calormen cities), but it was a positively filthy and poor place. Even the walls of the palace, which was not nearly as nice as Cair Paraval, were covered in dirt and scum. The city also seemed to be full of unsavory people and Susan had been told that it was not safe for her to walk the streets without an armed guard – even in the "good" sections of town.

When Torim had found out she was pregnant, he had whisked her away in the night to a small castle, far inland, that was remote and nearly a ruin. It was almost as though he were afraid for her or running from something, but when Susan told him this he had laughed heartily with his men over the "fancies of women", telling her that he thought the fresh air of his country estate would be good for a woman with child. The castle was very run down and was surrounded by the remains of what looked to be a village. At present, only a few cottages were inhabited by servants at the castle. Despite wanting her to get "fresh, country air", Torim did not seem to want her to go outside very much. As her husband seemed to own very few books for a King, Susan spent her days embroidering with her ladies-in-waiting.

Susan hated embroidery. She preferred to be around people. She rarely got to talk to anyone other than her ladies-in-waiting, the Terebinthian ones being very dull and her two Narnian girls hating this place almost as much as she. Of course there were the servants, but they were very taciturn. Torim was gone much of the time and Torim's men paid her no more mind than as if she had been a piece of furniture. This was not at all the way that Susan was accustomed to being treated. Torim refused outright to send her back to Narnia. Voyages were not good places for childbearing, he claimed.

One day, out of sheer boredom, Susan was looking through some old scrolls in a storeroom that seemed to tell the history of Torim's house. It looked to her like a great many of Torim's ancestors had killed relatives to gain the throne. This quite alarmed Susan.

"What are you doing?" Torim's voice came from the doorway sometime later. Susan nearly jumped out of her skin, for she had not been expecting him and his voice sounded odd. Not harsh, exactly, but there was an underlying ominous tone to it. Susan shivered.

"I just found these scrolls here, and was glancing through them. I thought it would be good to know my son or daughter's family history."

Torim gave her an odd look and walked towards her, picking up a scroll and then flicking it away from him in disdain. "I have oft thought the same, Queen Susan," he said, very distantly, "but no one seems to know anything about _your_ House. It is as though you and your brothers and sister appeared out of the air."

"We came from another world," Susan said, a bit upset that he had been looking into her family history without informing her.

"So I have heard often enough. I am not sure what it means. So," he said, changing the subject, "you have read my illustrious family history?" his voice was a bit sarcastic.

"Just a bit."

Torim laughed without mirth. "I dare say that your gentle heart was shocked."

"I do not know what you mean," Susan pretended ignorance.

He let the point drop. "Did I ever tell you that my House has connections to Narnia? I am descended from that old line of Narnian Kings. The ones before the White Witch"

"You are?" Susan asked in shock.

"As is King Lune of Archenland whom I believe you know. Isn't it strange? That line died out in Narnia, but lived on and prospered in other nations."

"It is good to know that our baby will be descended from those old Kings," Susan said, recovering from her surprise.

Torim came over and kissed her on the cheek. "Yes, it is. You don't know much about those old Kings and Queens, do you? I think our scholars know more about them than you know in Narnia! I can get you a book on the subject, if you like."

"Thank you," Susan said, laughing, "but I think that my brothers and sister would be more interested in that type of thing than I. I always hated history as a girl."

"Please stop pretending that you are vapid. I know better. You wanted to know about your child's lineage and I am telling you," Torim took on the air of one about to tell a story. "My ancestor, Elon, was the first settler here. He was a Narnian lord – with a rival claim to the throne. He originally came here with a few of his followers to build up a resistance, but once they found that the land had silver, the lords figured that they could do as well here as in Narnia."

"What happened to the silver mines?" Susan asked. She had seen the ruined remains of one of these mines. Susan was increasingly realizing that Narnia, while it may not have been richest nation, was a place with much hope. Things were still steadily improving in Narnia and it was the most prosperous that it had been in hundreds of years. Terebinthia was very different. Everywhere that Susan looked, she saw former glories. Terebinthia was a nation in decline, one that had probably been in decline for generations.

"They dried up," Torim said, shortly.

"So you became pirates?" Susan whispered, unable to keep some disapproval out of her voice. She had heard ever since she came to Narnia that Terebinthia was full of pirates, but she had never taken it terribly literally. She thought it exaggeration – there were those who said that Narnia was nothing but witches and sorcerers. Of course she knew that there were some pirates in Terebinthia, but she had not realized, until she arrived with Torim, that nearly everyone seemed be connected with pirating or smuggling in some way. Susan was quite sure that some of Torim's closest advisors were pirates.

Torim turned from her, angrily. "There was a famine. Nothing really grows here, on Terebinthia. We should be a center of trade, situated as we are between the Lone Islands and Narnia, but sailors and merchants prefer to stop in Galma. Elondos has gained a bad reputation, especially in recent years.

"I think that people from other nations would have more respect for you if you put a stop to all the pirating. Even people in your own land would –"

"They would flay me. This is not Narnia, Susan. What you call "pirating" is the bread and butter of many here. I have executed many of the most notorious pirates that my brother allowed to roam free. What more could I do?"

Torim's elder brother had been King before him, as Susan had learned. "Nothing, I suppose," she said fretfully. "It just troubles me Torim. I wish that I could have my baby in Narnia, or at least not be locked away in this ruin!"

"It was necessary," Torim said, crossing his arms.

"You thought I was in danger, did you not? But from who?"

Torim sighed, but ran his hand through her hair with a certain tenderness. "There are those who are not happy with my rule. Those who would go to great lengths to see to it that my heir is never born. You are safe here. You would not be in Elondos and certainly not on a ship to Narnia."

Susan smiled at him and kissed him gently. Torim put his hand on her big belly. "I will trust your judgment, my husband," she told him. "In her last letter, Lucy wrote to me that things are well in Narnia, but you can hardly blame me for worrying!"

_Edmund_

It was Edmund's son's presentation to Narnia and Marna was introducing Edmund to her lover. Jolie was a pretty blonde girl with an elderly husband and Marna's face glowed when she looked at the young woman. Edmund couldn't help but be a bit jealous.

"Ah, but you two are lucky," Jolie had exclaimed when she was handed the baby, Gwain. "Old Normas and I have been trying to have a baby for years now, but I'm afraid he's not quite up to the task of giving children." At this, she laughed in what Edmund thought was rather a rude way. Normas was a Narnian lord, after all. But Marna laughed along with her.

"Give Gwain to me," Edmund said, abruptly. People had been fussing over the baby all day – he must have been handled by hundreds.

Jolie raised her eyebrows at his tone and Marna glared daggers at him. He handed the baby to Marna resignedly and went off to talk to someone else – anyone else.

He bumped into Lord Kael. Kael was a rather pretty lord, a couple of years younger than Edmund who, it seemed, could not keep from bumping into Edmund tonight.

"King Edmund," he said, blushing bright red and nearly dropping his drink. "I am sorry! I know this is the second time tonight …"

It occurred to Edmund that Kael was behaving in the way that very girls behave when they find themselves in the presence of a man that they fancy. Edmund quickly banished this thought from his mind.

"It is fine," Edmund laughed, helping him to steady himself. "You are quite the clumsy one, though, are you not?"

"I -- I am sorry," he stuttered once again. Edmund smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Kael blushed again and Edmund removed his hand, trying not to think about the young man's lean, muscled frame and soft brown hair. No, he wouldn't think of that at all.

When Edmund saw Marna again, he found that she was hanging all over Jolie in quite an obvious way. He was surprised that people were not staring. Edmund was becoming very angry. What right did she have to embarrass him like this? Why couldn't she just be satisfied with _him_? Hundreds of women would be thrilled to have him for a husband. He managed to pull Marna away.

"What do you think you are doing?" he snapped at his wife.

"What do you mean?" she laughed, completely caught up in the joy of the occasion.

"Could you be anymore obvious?" he whispered furiously. "You are humiliating me."

"No one thinks anything of two women friends hugging or kissing one another, Edmund."

"At your age?" Edmund asked coldly, knowing that she was a bit sensitive about her age. "You don't see me – you don't see me behaving like _that_."

"Well, maybe you should!" Marna said loudly, exasperated. Several people glanced around to see what the King and his wife were yelling about. Marna lowered her voice. "There is a young man who has been watching you all night, and I think that you've noticed him as well." She looked over in Kael's direction. "You might need to retire early this evening," she said, winking at him in a way that rather embarrassed Edmund.

Edmund blushed. "Stop it! I couldn't –"

"At least talk to him!"

"What about Gwain's presentation?" Edmund asked lamely.

Marna looked over at where the red-headed baby was sleeping fondly, but she rolled her eyes at Edmund. "I _think_ he will understand as he is only a few weeks old." She gave him a peck of a kiss. "Sometimes I worry about you, Edmund. You deserve to be happy."

"I suppose that I could at least go talk to him," Edmund conceded, biting his lip nervously.

_Lucy_

Lucy was ambling through the forest, near Cair Paravel. Gwain's presentation to Narnia had been last night and Lucy had barely been able to pay any mind to most of the guests because a young lord had been hanging on her every word. He had been very handsome and witty Lucy had laughed with him a good deal. She had been rather alarmed, however, when the man had insinuated that he would like to see her bedroom. Her heart beat fast when his eyes were upon her and for a brief second, she fantasized about saying yes. She couldn't remember a man ever looking at her as he did – with desire. Even Ikram had not – though they had kissed and held hands enough. Roydon certainly had not.

Lucy sighed as she picked the petals off a flower she had taken from the forest. She still often thought of Roydon and wasn't even sure why. He had been handsome, but there were handsomer men in Narnia. He had been nice, but there were nicer men. He certainly had never shown much interest in her, other than as a friend. But Lucy still poured over his letters almost everyday.

Lucy heard a branch break behind her and she turned around, not at all alarmed. She could never feel unsafe in this forest. She saw that Mrs. Quirrel had found her and she smiled at her squirrel friend who she hadn't seen in a few months. Mrs. Quirrel talked with her pleasantly for a good long while about Edmund's new son and about how well things were going. Lucy was pleased to hear that her family had not had any more trouble with humans. Eventually, Mrs. Quirrel got around to asking about Roydon, who was, of course, her good friend.

"He seems well," Lucy told her, thinking of the last letter Roydon had written her. "Though of course it is difficult for him – he had never been in a battle before he went north. I worry for him sometimes."

"When do you expect him back, dear?" Mrs. Quirrel asked.

"I don't know. The war goes well now, my brother tells me, but Roydon hasn't told me that he plans on coming home anytime soon in his letters."

Mrs. Quirrel gave a long sigh. "There was a time when I thought you and he – well. You never can tell with young people, I suppose."

"No," Lucy agreed. "You never can."


	10. Where Beauty Lies

**Chapter Ten: Where Beauty Lies**

_Peter_

The battle of the day before had been long and difficult, but Narnia had ultimately prevailed.

Peter was glad – too long he had been fighting in this war, and if things kept going the way they had today, it looked to be finally drawing to a close. It had been well over a year since he first arrived in the north of Narnia. He had only had one brief visit home in that time and he knew that much of his army was more weary than he. This war would end soon – today, if Peter had his way.

"Your Majesty, shouldn't I send a herald ahead to warn Wurg of our arrival?" asked one of Peter's generals, desperately, as Peter and his entourage headed toward the Giant camp.

"No," Peter told him firmly. "He should know that we are coming. And I don't care if he doesn't."

Wurg, was the Giant second-in-command. Their head general, Borboff, had been killed in battle the day before – apparently one of the young Narnian lords had fought him almost single-handedly which much impressed Peter as Borboff had been known as a very good warrior. Peter wished fervently that it was Wurg who had been killed instead of Borboff. Borboff certainly had no love for Narnians and, being fairly smart for a Giant, was actually a good leader. Still, Peter did not wish to see his death in the same way that he wished for Wurg's. Peter wanted to tear Wurg apart with his bare hands, a feeling that he had only ever borne for one other person – the White Witch – and only then after she had nearly killed Edmund.

Wurg was known for his brutality in battle and his cruelty towards Narnians, in particular. He was commonly rumored to torture prisoners for sport and his armor was adorned with the bones of his enemies. It was quite gruesome. Peter had never met with Wurg before, preferring to deal with Borboff. This meeting did not prove a pleasant one. Wurg certainly did not behave as a general who had just been thoroughly bested, though Peter noticed that he was not wearing any of his bone embellishments. Wurg actually had the nerve to _laugh_ when Peter entered the room.

"So, Little Man, you have shown up at last, have you?"

Several of Peter's attendants swords at this. "You will address His Majesty, King Peter with the proper respect," one of them said, pointing his sword at Wurg rashly. Peter gestured for them to lower their weapons.

This display caused Wurg to laugh all the harder. "So you are the great King Peter I've heard so much about," he taunted. "Honorable and brave, they do say, though he uses the battle tactics of the coward and the sneak." This caused another upset among Peter's attendants and Peter himself put his hand on his sword hilt. His battle tactics may have been unconventional, but that Wurg would dare accuse the Narnians of playing unfairly after all that Wurg himself had done was insulting.

The Giants had proven a difficult foe to fight. Even once Narnia managed to build a force that far outnumbered them, it could often take ten men to slay one Giant. Narnia, of course, had a few Giants on its side, but the number was small. Until recently, Peter's main tactic in battle had been to attempt to put the Giants' eyes out with arrows or with the pecking of Talking Birds. Peter had tried a new tactic in the recent battle: fire. When the Giants were set on fire, they would usually run about wailing madly instead of rolling on the ground as any sensible person would do. The fires themselves often killed or seriously injured the Giants, and if they did not, they became easy prey for the Narnians.

"Wurg," Peter said, a bit surprised at how steady and authoritative his own voice sounded. "Your army has been greatly injured in the recent battle between our two peoples. You have little chance of overcoming Narnia. Shall we come to terms?"

"Terms, he says," Wurg muttered as though talking to someone else and not Peter himself. "And I suppose that these terms would include giving over our lands to Narnia?"

"What use has Narnia for this cold north?" Peter asked disdainfully. "No. We only ask that you quit attacking our people."

"We will not stop attacking those who move onto Giant lands!"

"I have discussed this issue with your leaders before," Peter said, gritting his teeth. "Narnians have not been trying to encroach on your land. It is you Giants who began raiding in the South, most likely to steal and murder in the most barbarous way imaginable–"

Peter was referring, of course, to the fact that Giants often ate their victims. Wurg seemed unimpressed. "Go home, Little Peter," he boomed, "You sure haven't beaten us yet." Peter bristled at such a dismissal – and when he had attempted mercy -- but he knew better than to draw arms in the middle of a Giant Camp with only a few retainers. Even Wurg knew better than to kill Peter in cold blood – nothing would incite the Narnians to battle quicker.

Peter left the camp feeling disappointed as well as frustrated. He had hoped that the war would be over soon and that he and the rest of the Narnian forces would be able to go home. Peter missed beautiful Cair Paravel and he felt that he barely even knew his own children. At the moment, however, the thing that Peter needed most was sleep – something he had not had in two days. When he returned to his own camp, however, one of his retainers told him that the young man who had killed Borboff was waiting to see him in his tent, as Peter had requested. Peter sighed with exhaustion, but agreed to meet with the man.

Once Peter had entered his tent and sat down at his table, he realized that he knew this young lord. Though he had grown a short beard, Peter recognized him as the boy who used to run about with Lucy all the time – Roydon was his name. A boy, Peter thought of him, though he was probably not much younger than Peter himself.

"My Lord Roydon," Peter said, and he could tell that Roydon was flattered that his name was remembered. "Nearly everyone I have met today has told me tales of your bravery. On behalf of Narnia, I would like to think you."

Roydon shrugged, embarrassed. "I simply saw what I needed to do. I don't know what everyone is making such a fuss about."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Borboff was a very fierce warrior and you killed him nearly alone. That takes courage."

Roydon shrugged again. "I only hope that I get a chance to help again."

"Ah, yes, you are injured aren't you?" Peter asked brusquely, gesturing to Roydon's arm which was bandaged.

"It is only a broken wrist, Your Majesty," Roydon said.

"Still, you won't be much good for several weeks, at least," Roydon's face fell at this pronouncement. "I would recommend that you spend a month or two in Cair."

"But Sire, isn't the war almost over, anyway?"

"Perhaps," Peter said, grimly. "Perhaps not."

Peter rather hoped that Roydon would go home for a bit. He seemed to remember that Lucy used to fancy him and he certainly thought that Lucy could do far worse for herself.

Susan 

Susan was sitting in Terebinthia's capital city of Elondos at a very dull dinner party. She was wearing a dress covered in cheap red gems and watching as two women seated a little down the table from her were quite obviously talking about her. Susan sighed. It wasn't as though this were anything new. She thought that when she convinced Torim to take her to the capital city that things would get better – she would have people to talk with, parties to go to, but this was not so. Everyone seemed to be talking _about_ King Torim's strange foreign bride, but no one much talked _to _her. She had been quite surprised at these people's reaction to her. Susan had certainly never thought herself a tomboy, but these people seemed to think that her tendency to speak of "men's matters", something that no Narnian lady would have hesitated to do on occasion, was terribly strange.

A few weeks ago, Susan had decided to brush up on her archery as she was woefully out of shape since coming to Terebinthia. Torim had found her and grabbed her arm rather roughly, asking if she meant to make a fool out of him. He told her that half the kingdom would soon be talking about it. She had thought he was exaggerating, but he wasn't.

Of course, Susan would have liked to be back in Narnia by now, but she had to admit that Torim was right about not leaving at the moment. Her daughter, Ambrosia, had first been too tiny to travel and Susan was loath to leave her in this wretched place. Now that her daughter was getting a bit older, it was the worst season for gales and Susan was afraid to leave.

"Are you feeling well, dear?" Torim asked her mildly, when she excused herself from dinner early.

"Oh, yes," she gave him a weak smile. "Just a bit tired. I think I'll go straight to bed."

She didn't go straight to bed, but instead went up to check on her daughter. Ambrosia was really one of the only things to enjoy on the wretched little island. Still, Susan could not suppress a vague feeling of disappointment every time she looked at the child. Ambrosia, Susan could not deny, just wasn't _pretty_.

Like most good-looking people, Susan valued beauty greatly. She actually thought that Ambrosia looked a good deal like Torim and she wondered why she never noticed that Torim wasn't particularly handsome before. Still, the baby was very cute and seemed to be bright and healthy.

Torim had been disappointed that the baby was a girl and not a boy. He had wanted an heir to his kingdom and when Susan pointed out that their daughter would be Queen of Narnia some day, he had brushed it off as though meaningless. In Narnia, Ambrosia's birth would have been greatly celebrated. Here, Susan knew that many saw a daughter as a failure.

The baby was awake and Susan picked her up, cradling her in arms. Ambrosia cooed and Susan smiled at her.

"Soon, Mother and Father are going will take you out of this dreadful city and we won't come back for a good long time, will we?" The baby looked at her so attentively that Susan almost expected her to answer.

She put Ambrosia back in her cradle and waited until the baby fell asleep. Susan herself sat in a sort of half sleeping daze for a good long time. Presently, she decided to go find Torim and tell him that she was feeling fine and had just needed to get away from that dinner party. She thought he seemed concerned about her.

She searched for him for quite some time, but could not find him in any of his normal places throughout the castle. She finally concluded that he must have gone to bed, though the hour was still quite early. She walked through the long, rather dirty corridors, to his bedroom – their bedroom, she had to remind herself, though she sometimes slept in a little room beside Ambrosia's.

Susan opened the large oak doors, but what she found shocked her.

Torim was lying on their bed, but wrapped around him was a half-dressed blonde girl. Susan stopped dead in her tracks and made a choking sound in the back of her throat. Torim stirred and sat up a bit and their eyes locked. Susan opened her mouth to say something scathing, but no words came to her. She simply turned around and walked quickly back to her little room. Tears stinging her eyes, she began to take out some of her clothes and tossed them on the bed. She couldn't think – all she knew was that she had to leave.

Torim wasn't far behind her.

"Susan! Susan!" he cried, upon finding her about ten minutes later. He grabbed both her hands to stop her frantic movements. "Listen to me. That was –"

"I'm leaving!" Susan barked out. She was a bit shocked at the harshness of her own voice. "Tomorrow. Get one of your ships –"

"You are not leaving," Torim said quietly, letting go of her hands.

"Yes, I am." Susan said, outraged that he would even try to argue with her at the moment. "I'm going back to Narnia," here her voice took on a slightly superior air. "You can do what you like."

"You can't leave."

"Yes, I can," Susan insisted.

"No," Torim said loudly grabbing her by both arms and pushing her harshly into a chair. "No, you can NOT." His eyes were wide with anger and Susan shrank from him in fear. She was coming to the realization that Torim meant to keep her here by force. She began to tremble and sob softly.

"I am sorry that you had to see that, Susan," he said, as though being very reasonable. "But if you keep to your own affairs then you need not see anything like it again. You are my wife. Do you understand what that means? You are to remain here with me."

Susan began to tremble. She was so angry with him. It had never occurred to her that he would have an affair. _She_ had always been the desired one. Torim ignored her and called a servant. He was going to post a guard outside her door!

"You cannot just keep me here!" Susan said, but her voice sounded unsure. "My brother—"

"Your brother is far away, my dear," Torim's voice was slightly mocking. "You've already been here far longer than you intended and so far, no army has come to fetch you. I do not believe that will happen now."

Susan wrapped her arms around her legs, feeling very small. She moved as far from him as possible, disgusted with the idea of him trying to touch her.

"You should get some sleep," Torim told her. "You look awful." He did not look at her as he said these words and he left rather abruptly. One thought filled Susan's mind: she had to get off this island.

Edmund 

Parties were fewer and smaller with Peter and Susan gone from Cair Paravel. This suited Edmund fine, as he didn't much care for parties, anyway. This dinner party, though modest in size, seemed to be going over well. There were fewer nobles in Narnia since the war with the Giants began. Across the table from Edmund, Lucy was laughing and talking to a young faun whom Edmund didn't know. Beside Edmund, Marna and her lover, Jolie, were whispering and Edmund was trying his best to ignore them. A bit down the table, a young man named Lotos was giving him sidelong glances across the table and Edmund was trying to ignore him as well. Edmund had slept with Lotos a couple of times, but he was tired of the fidgety lord, and, if he were being honest, didn't even really like him.

Edmund supposed that he could look for someone else during this party, but the process of finding a lover was always terribly awkward as well as fearful. There had been several before Lotos and though the physical aspect was enjoyable, Edmund still felt almost as indifferent and about them as he had with all those girls he was with before he was married. Edmund drank his last sip of wine, but Marna soon saw to it that his goblet was refilled.

"Edmund," Marna whispered, putting a hand firmly on his arm. "Won't you come and see me tonight?"

Edmund looked at her in surprise. He could have sworn that she would be with Jolie all night. Marna gave Edmund one of her sweetest smiles. Her dimples always were one of her best features.

"Sure," Edmund said, beginning to feel in a better humor. He had drank little, but he was beginning to feel a bit tipsy.

Edmund soon began talking animatedly with anyone who would listen to him. Lucy raised her eyebrows at him and giggled a bit. He could tell that she thought he was drunk, but that wasn't how he felt –exactly. After a while, Marna gave him a kiss on the cheek and left the room. Edmund soon followed her.

He was rather surprised to find, upon entering Marna's room, that she was lying on her bed with Jolie.

"Oh! I am sorry," Edmund said, blushing and turning his head, though they didn't appear to be doing anything terribly exciting. "I thought – er – never mind." He turned to go.

"No, wait! Edmund!" Marna cried. Edmund stopped, still feeling horribly embarrassed, and turned around to look at her. "Join us?" she asked.

Edmund's breath caught. "What?!" He heard the pitch of his voice go up. He cleared his throat. "Er, no. No, I don't think so." He knew that his face must be bright red and even Marna was blushing a little. He turned to leave again, but Marna leapt out of the bed and came over to him, putting her arms around him and whispering in his ear.

"Please Edmund, please do this for me," she said. "It would make it easier … for me."

"You are always so complimentary," Edmund said, sarcastically, rolling his eyes. They had been sleeping together. They wanted to have another child.

Marna backed away from him and shrugged her shoulders, looking at the ground. "I didn't mean it to be insulting. It is just … well, I'm in love with her, aren't I? Sometimes I feel guilty, being with you. This way I wouldn't have to feel guilty anymore." She still didn't look at him and Edmund didn't know how to respond to this. Presently, she kissed him, briefly. Jolie, who hadn't said a word until this point, came over and stood in front of him. She was prettier than Marna, really, and younger, though Edmund would guess that she was still a few years older than he. They looked at one another for a long moment before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her lips were full and moist and Edmund could feel her body through her thin silk dress. He was becoming curiously excited by this. Jolie drew back from him and looked at him with expectation.

"It's so ironic!" Edmund cried, seeing the humor of the situation. "Most men would kill to be in my – ah – position."

They both laughed at this as if were terribly funny. Marna took him by the hand and led him toward the bed.

Lucy 

Roydon arrived back in Cair on a warm summer night. The first thing he did was take a walk along the beach for he had always found something exhilarating in the crash of the waves on the shore. Several other people were on the beach tonight, as it was a pleasant evening and the stars were bright. Roydon strolled some way down the beach just drinking in the beauty of the evening. Apparently, there had been a ball or a fancy party as there was a group of several ladies and lords in their dress clothes having a good time frolicking in tide. Roydon smiled and waved at them, thinking that he must look a sight in his travel worn tunic and cape. He walked just a bit further before turning back to look at Cair Paravel gleaming in the starlight.

Roydon sighed. It seemed more beautiful than ever, tall and white; it was almost shining tonight, as opposed to the rather ghostly look it sometimes took on. Roydon presently noticed a woman – a lovely woman – standing on the beach, a little apart from the other partygoers, facing the sea, and tracing the toe of her delicate shoe in the sand. Roydon gasped at the picture that she made, her form silhouetted against the castle, a lock of pale hair falling across her face. After a moment she frowned and turned toward him, almost as though she could feel his eyes upon her. She squinted her eyes and tilted her face to the side.

"Roydon?" she asked. Roydon opened his mouth to reply, but before he could she ran to him and threw her arms around him. "Roydon!" she exclaimed and his mind was swimming. This was _Lucy_.

She drew away and Roydon looked at her in amazement. Now that he looked closer, she didn't look so very different. Her hair was swept up whereas she normally wore it long, down her back or in a braid and her dark blue dress seemed a little more mature and thoughtfully selected than what she normally wore, but her beaming face still looked very much the same. Still, she looked very pretty – beautiful even – and Roydon wondered why he'd never noticed what a pretty young woman she was before now.

"I didn't know you were coming home," Lucy said, a bit reproachfully.

Roydon gaped at her a moment before answering. "It was rather sudden," he told her. "I got wounded and King Peter told me to take some time at home," Roydon called Cair Paravel home without hesitation now, though he had only lived there a few years.

"You were wounded?" Lucy's face clouded with worry and Roydon hastened to reassure her.

"It is not serious. Hopefully, I will be back at the front in a month or so." Lucy looked regretful that he would be leaving so soon and Roydon found that he regretted it also.

They began to walk along the beach, back toward Cair, and Roydon found that he was still fascinated by her. There was something unquestionably different – or perhaps just something he had never noticed before?

"I wanted to thank you for all your letters, Lucy," he said, after a while "I know that I didn't write to you quite as much as you wrote to me –"

"It's understandable," Lucy said, seriously. "You were at the war, Roydon."

Her sincerity and unselfishness only made him feel more guilty. "I've really missed you," he said, sincerely. "You've always been so – sweet," for some reason the word didn't seem quite good enough. Lucy laughed shyly, letting a tendril of hair fall across her face. Roydon was struck with the sudden desire to kiss her. Then he shook himself, angrily. This was _Lucy_.


	11. Escape

**AN: I really appreciate the reviews guys, keep them coming. I've updated my profile so that it is more comprehensible and it has info about my fics, including this one. **

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Chapter Eleven: Escape

_Peter_

Little children lined the marble streets of the town around Cair Paravel and threw the vibrant flowers of late summer on the ground before Peter's procession. There were others, of course, probably nearly everyone in the city, but the human children were the ones with the flowers. Each time he saw a little girl with golden curls, his heart ached for Catherine.

The war with the Giants was officially over. A few soldiers were staying, of course, to guard Narnia's Northern border, but the bulk of the army, including its High King, was returning. He knew that he was expected at Cair Paravel, but the procession through the city was agonizingly slow. He could see the castle rising up before him, but the distance that he could have traveled in a few minutes took far longer due to the crowds.

When Peter finally arrived at the castle, he felt strangely shy. There were crowds of nobles gathered in the courtyard and on the wide stairs which led to the castle. Their cheers were loud, but Peter began to hear them as if far away. He and the humans of his company dismounted their horses and after a hurried conversation with several of his courtiers, he realized that he was expected to make a speech.

He was used to this sort of thing, of course, and he gave his usual bit about bravery and the safety of Narnia and its people, but his heart wasn't in it. He was home and he knew that he should be happy – in fact he _was_ happy – but happiness was only one of many emotions that he was feeling at the moment. He knew that he would soon be greeted by the people who were closest to him at the castle – and first of all his family.

Peter greeted Lucy with a kiss on both cheeks and Edmund with a hug. He could tell that they were both happy to see him and Lucy was positively grinning, but the greeting was, of course, rather formal. Susan, as Peter had been told earlier today, was not at Cair as he had hoped. Then, his children were brought to him. Peter sucked in his breath – he had been hoping that he would be able to greet his children in private. The disadvantages to having family greetings made public were great and doubly so with children. Too formal a meeting and people would see you as cold; too emotional and people would see you as weak. Despite the fact that Narnia didn't have a terribly stuffy type of court, Peter knew that there were always people willing to criticize his life outside of being King of Narnia – even if they liked him as a ruler!

First Catherine was handed to him. She hugged him around the neck and kissed him on the cheek. Peter couldn't believe how old she seemed – she had apparently been allowed to wear a more grown-up sort of dress of light green and ribbons in her golden curls for the occasion. Peter also noticed that she was naturally comfortable being in the center of attention. She smiled sweetly and waved at the crowd and Peter could see that she was already shaping up to be the kingdom's darling. Peter, happy to hold her again, patted her curls and sat her on the ground.

The problem came with his son, Jonathan. Peter wasn't sure why he had been brought out – he was just a baby and seemed disoriented by all the noise and the bright sunlight. The child was sucking his thumb and clutching at his nurse's neck. He was handed over to Peter and promptly began wailing, tears rolling down his ruddy little face. Peter tried to quiet him with playful, soothing words but Jonathan was having none of it and began reaching for his nurse and crying even harder. Peter handed him over. There was an awkward tension in the air that Lucy finally broke.

"I'm sure that once Prince Jonathan has had his afternoon nap, he will be quite happy to see his father," she said, laughing easily. Peter could have hugged her.

--- -- ---

A week later, matters had not much improved with his son. Peter had been to see the child twice, but the first time Jonathan had hidden under his bed the better part of the visit and the second time he had clung to his nurse's skirts. Lucy had decided that with the beautiful spring weather that they should have a "family picnic". Peter knew that this was probably a response to his situation with his son, but he had agreed.

Jonathan was spending the afternoon in Lucy's lap, sucking his thumb and watching Peter carefully. He was not sure what the boy was so cautious of – he knew that small children were occasionally intimidated by him because of his height and his rather deep voice, but they usually got over it soon enough.

Jonathan was nearly three years old by now and for the first time, Peter noticed that the boy looked very like he himself but for his fairer hair and skin. When Catherine tried to play with the boy, he clung to his toy – a worn out stuffed rabbit – and shook his head. Catherine shrugged and went to play peek-a-boo with Edmund's son, Gwain, who was now over a year old. Peter chewed on a rather tough piece of cold chicken. It was a lovely day, but he couldn't help but feel he was wasting it.

Just as they had finished their meal, Peter heard a commotion in the woods near by, where guards were stationed.

"…their Majesties may not be disturbed," one of the guards, Lanus the centaur, was saying. Whoever wished to see them was not taking no for an answer, though Peter could not catch more than one word in ten that he was saying.

"It's all right, Lanus," Peter called. "Let him approach." He was surprised to find that the person who wished to see them was a young boy, a peasant from one of the islands, by his dress.

"You – Your Majesty," he stuttered after Peter greeted him, apparently now nervous. "I was bade give this to one of you and no other," and he handed Peter a rolled up piece of parchment.

Peter frowned as he noticed the seal – it was the royal seal of Narnia. After he had read about a quarter of it he gasped and dropped it, his mind reeling.

"Well," Edmund said, and Peter jumped, "what is it?" He had forgot that everyone was waiting anxiously.

Peter picked up the document, and sighed grimly. "It's Susan."

_Susan_

"Is everything ready?" Susan whispered to her lady-in-waiting, Regina.

"Your Majesty should be prepared to leave by tomorrow evening," Regina said, in a conspiratorial tone of voice. Then she giggled. Susan realized that this was an exciting adventure for the girl. "They must have bought one of the merchant ships," Regina went on, "because _I _certainly can't tell the difference."

Susan's other Narnian lady-in-waiting, Delma, was playing the harp rather loudly in the corner so that the guard that Torim had posted would not be able to hear their whispered conversation.

"Did you get clothes for us?" The three had decided that they would have to go disguised as common women who dressed quite differently in Terebinthia, as wearing their regular clothes would attract attention. The streets of Elondos certainly weren't safe after dark, especially for women, but the walk was not at all long and they had their daggers. It would have been nice to have an escort, but Susan had been unwilling to trust any of Torim's men and the only male who had been let in on their plans was a former stable boy whom they had persuaded to carry messages for them.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Regina said and proceeded to show the clothes that she had hidden away in a drawer. They were horribly drab – or so Susan thought. But she noticed something else.

" Regina, there are only the two dresses here."

"Ah – um – yes --" Regina stammered, giving Delma a sidelong glance. Delma had stopped playing and walked over to stand before Susan. Suddenly, she dropped into a low curtsey before Susan. "You know that I love you, Your Majesty – but I – I – Nolon…" she trailed off as she said his name, a man who had been paying her no small amount of attention, as Susan knew.

"You want to stay here," Susan said, with a growing sense of dread. How she would get along without Delma, she did not know. Regina was sweet enough, but was a rather silly girl.

"He's asked me to marry him," Delma burst out, blushing. "I wish to say yes."

"You may certainly have my blessing if you like, my dear," Susan said, "but you know that they do not treat their women here as they do in Narnia."

"Oh I know. But Nolon isn't a noble, you know, he's a shopkeeper. They treat their women a bit more equally. Many women help run the business right alongside the men. Anyway, Nolon isn't like that," Susan could hear the ecstasy in the young woman's voice as she said his name. She couldn't understand it – Susan had seen Nolon once and ascertained that he was middle-aged and balding man without much personality, though he certainly wasn't repulsive.

"Far be it from me to stand in the way of love," Susan said out loud, for she recognized the emotion when she saw it. She had been in love with Torim – yes, truly in love – and even though she now knew what sort of person he was, her heart broke every time she thought of him.

"Queen Susan," Delma said, dragging Susan out of her reverie. "There is one I should like to have my place."

--- -- ---

Susan sat in a plush chair in her quarters, surveying the girl. She knew for a fact that Torim had been sleeping with this girl fairly recently, though she did not suppose that Delma could have known this when she asked if the young woman could come along. After she had caught Torim with the first girl, Susan had done some investigating into his affairs and found that there were many other women. He did not even make much of a secret of it and Susan was embarrassed that she was the only one on the whole island who did not seem to know.

This girl – Carina – looked just like all the others. She was blonde and busty and Susan had ascertained that she was a kitchen maid. Oddly, that had been one of the things that hurt Susan the most. Torim couldn't have ever really cared about her – she wasn't even his type. She was surprised that he hadn't tried to court Lucy instead, but Lucy had been rather young when he first came to the Narnia court. Lucy would have seen through him.

"And why is it that you want to come to Narnia?" Susan said, trying her best to sound queenly and superior. She was not sure why – she did not usually act so snooty.

"Your Majesty," the girl curtsied low and her eyes never left the ground. "My parents are dead and I have no family. And I have heard that in Narnia women are listened to and respected and are not forced to do anything against their wills."

Susan raised her eyebrows. She wondered if the girl meant Torim. Susan had told Torim to keep away from her after she had found out about his affairs and so far he had done so, but he had made some rather vague threats. He told her that he _would_ have a son, an heir out of her. Susan did not think that he would force himself on any woman, but she was not sure and she knew that it would certainly be hard for a peasant girl to say no to the King in this country even if she wanted to.

The truth was that Susan was already pregnant again – in fact, she thought that it was starting to show, though she was careful to hide it. If Torim knew that she was pregnant then he would probably double her guard or send her off to some god-forsaken castle in the country. Her chances of getting back to Narnia would decrease dramatically.

Susan looked at Carina who was fidgeting nervously. She wanted to hate her, but that didn't make much sense. She did not steal Torim from Susan – if not her, Torim simply would have found someone else. When Susan looked at the girl's face, she could not help but believe that she was sincere.

"Very well, you can come," Susan said, giving her a kind smile.

--- -- ---

Needless to say, Susan was very upset when, the next evening, she found Regina sitting in her quarters with about ten other women who Susan had never seen before.

"What is this?" Susan asked her, fearing that she had somehow been betrayed.

"They want to come with us," Regina said, brightly. "Can you believe it? Apparently, no one likes Terebinthia much.

"What?" she drew Regina aside. "What were you thinking? Don't you know how dangerous it was to tell them? This is very serious – if we are caught -- "

Regina rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, Queen Susan. They are my friends." Susan looked at the group of women. They were all young – none looked older than thirty. A few of them wore veils over their faces, as was the style of the country women here. Susan knew that Regina called anyone who was fun at parties her friend.

Susan sighed. She knew that it was no use in telling them to leave now that they already knew all her plans. Susan turned to the women. "I want you all to choose a partner – so many of us walking through the streets together will draw attention. If you are wearing silks or velvets or any fine fabrics or fancy jewelry then you need to find a change of clothes within the next few hours."

This would never work! With everyone that Regina had told, Torim was sure to have found out and was waiting to catch her, even now. Susan had no idea how they were going to sneak so many women out of the castle successfully. The plan was almost certain to fail and yet Susan couldn't bear to not go forward. It would be a long time before she got another chance to get away.

"Aren't you going to yell at me?" Regina whispered from behind Susan.

Susan sighed. "Now, when have I ever yelled at you? And there is certainly no use in arguing _now_."

--- -- ---

Susan could hardly believe it when she stepped foot on the ship. She and Regina had not had any trouble whatsoever getting to the docks. There was a moment of fear on Susan's part when she didn't recognize any of the men. What if they were actually Terebinthians and she had been tricked? When she saw the bright way that they smiled and the respectful way they bowed, however, Susan doubted no more. She was welcomed heartily.

It was when Susan saw Edmund a few moments later that she burst into tears. Perhaps she did have a little bravery after all – she had managed to push the fear of escape, the grief of her failed marriage, and even the joy of possibly seeing Narnia to the back of her mind. What mattered was getting away and Susan had somehow managed to it more or less on her own. Even when she had first come to Narnia, she had always been bolstered up by one of her braver siblings. When she saw Edmund, it came upon her all at once that she was safe – or at least for the time being -- and all those emotions hit her with great force.

Edmund hugged her, seeming to understand why she was crying and he muttered something under his breath about killing Torim. He sounded quite sincere. She cried for a few moments before she attempted to dry her tears and regain some dignity.

"I haven't seen you in so long, Ed," she said finally, wiping her eyes. She never knew that she would miss even Edmund so much – she had not been away from her brothers and sister for this long before.

"Peter wanted to come, instead of me," Edmund told her, "but he was in no state to do so. I thought that he would kill Torim and half of Terebinthia with his bare hands!"

Susan gave a weak laugh. "Oh, you mustn't talk that way. I will die if all this causes Narnia to get into a war. I'm not worth it."

Edmund seemed surprised by this statement. "Of course you are, Su," he said.

Susan knew that Edmund had always thought her a bit arrogant and she had sometimes thought the same of him. Susan _wasn't_ arrogant; not really. She knew she was pretty, of course, but this was a matter of fact and many girls would have been much vainer than she if they had her beauty.

"Are we safe if we leave now?" Susan asked him, a bit fearfully. "Can he catch us?"

Edmund frowned. "It is a possibility. Terebinthia has some ships that are much faster than this merchant vessel, but I think if we leave now and take a slightly different route to Narnia, then we should be safe. Don't be scared."

Susan gave him a bitter smile. "It's not me that I worry about so much as my daughter."

"Where is Ambrosia?" Edmund asked. "I have not yet seen her."

" Regina has her. I believe that she was sleeping when I last checked."

Edmund laughed. "At least she doesn't know of her danger."

"Or of her father," Susan muttered.

Edmund seemed not to hear this. "She and Gwain will be fine playmates in a year or two," he said, "can you believe that they were born so close together?"

"I don't know many cousins only a week apart," Susan admitted.

Edmund turned to her, sensing the worry in her voice and realizing that he had perhaps worried her earlier. "Don't fret Su," he placed his had over hers. "Be brave just a little longer; there is really little chance we will be caught and soon you and Ambrosia will see Narnia."

_Edmund_

Edmund paced the floor of his bedroom nervously. This was bad. Very bad. He was waiting for Marna, to see if she would confirm the news that he had heard and if she did – it could be very, very bad.

Edmund absent-mindedly picked up a toy rattle that he had bought for his son and dropped it abruptly when he heard Marna enter the room.

"What is it Edmund?" she asked him, impatiently – no, as if she were trying to act impatient to distract from the real issue.

Edmund attempted to gather his wits. "Thank you for the great welcome," he said, sarcastically. "I haven't spoken to you since I returned from helping to rescue my sister yesterday and this is how you greet me?"

Marna bit her lip. Edmund could tell that she was every bit as nervous and jumpy as he – a bad sign. Edmund decided to get on with it. "I – I've heard rumors," he had dropped all his former sarcasm and argumentativeness and was now all sincerity and honest fear.

"Rumors?" Edmund could tell that she was stalling. She had to know what he was talking about.

"About your – uhm – friend – Jolie …" he pressed.

"Oh, yes," Marna said, sounded a little dazed.

"Marna – they are – they are saying she is with child!"

"She is," Marna told him evenly, but she had turned away from him. "This is very good news for her. She has wanted a child for so long."

Edmund hung his head and when he asked his next question, he stuttered. "Is it m-m-mine, do you think?"

"It could be," Marna breathed, then turned to him and went on at a very quick pace. Edmund knew that his own face must look awful. "It doesn't matter, Edmund. It was only one night and Jolie has wanted a baby for so long, so it worked out best this way. You don' t have to concern yourself with the child …"

"I don't have to concern myself?" Edmund asked, his voice going up a pitch, and something in her face at that moment told Edmund that there was something else – something that she wasn't telling him. He had become rather good at reading people since coming to Narnia. She looked away from him quickly, as if knowing that his mind was at work. "You – you _planned _this!" he sputtered, the truth of the whole affair coming at him at once.

"What?" she asked, but her voice was wavering.

"You – you – she wanted to have a child, so you tricked me – no! You didn't just trick me. I felt so strange that night. You _drugged _me."

Marna did not deny this, but she grabbed his arm. "Listen to me, Edmund, please. Her husband hits her – and – and he kept hurting her because she couldn't have a baby – I always thought that he was really the impotent one. I cannot get her to leave him. I was desperate."

Edmund shrugged her off. "How could you do this to me?!"

"Oh, don't be _so _dramatic. It isn't as though you have to give birth."

"Did it never occur to you that I might not want to father a child that I wouldn't be able to raise? Or that I wouldn't want to sleep with your lover – well, obviously _that _occurred to you or you wouldn't have drugged me."

Marna sat down on the bed. "I didn't think that you would be this upset. Most men don't care to father children as long as they don't have to _be_ fathers." Edmund gritted his teeth. "Yes, I know … Aslan, I'm so stupid," she went on. Of course, you're not like that, Edmund." She buried her head in her hands. "I just didn't know what to do …"

"Maybe something can still be done," Edmund said quietly. "You said her husband beats her – maybe you can still get her to leave him – for her child's sake."

Marna began to sob in earnest and Edmund knew with a sinking feeling that she did not think this possible. "She won't leave him – she's more determined to stay with him than ever. Edmund, he – he – found about her and I. He's taking her away from Narnia."

"What?" Edmund felt truly angry now. Soon, he would probably have a son or daughter who he was not allowed to see and he would never even know for sure that he or she was safe. He looked at Marna. Normally, he would have felt some compassion for her. He knew that she had truly loved Jolie. Right now, however, Edmund didn't care if he never saw Marna again.

_Lucy_

The ships came on a cool autumn afternoon.

Lucy stood on the one of the castle's balconies, squinting out at barely visible shapes on the horizon. It looked as if there were many of them. She turned to Roydon who was standing beside her.

"Do you think they are Terebinthian?" she asked, breathlessly.

"I don't know," Roydon said. "Probably."

--- -- ---

"If they are going to attack, I wish they'd just get on with it," Lucy said, nervously to Roydon a few days later. "I cannot stand this anxiousness, this waiting." They had learned that the ships were, in fact, Terebinthian. No one had thought that Torim would dare attack Narnia once Susan got away. They had not realized that he had quite so many ships at his disposal. "Pirates", Edmund called most of them, and Susan seemed to agree. Lucy shivered. Peter didn't think that they were strong enough to actually take Cair Paravel, but Lucy could tell that he was worried. They had all gone to such lengths to avoid a war with Terebinthia over Susan, but it seemed that Torim would insist on it.

"I know what you mean," Roydon said. "Lucy …"

"What is it?" Lucy asked, tilting her head to the side. She sensed something in his voice that sounded very like regret.

"Your brother is worried about the Giants. That they will attack again once they learn that we are under such a threat."

"Yes, I know that," Lucy had been to most of the war councils in the last few days, though they had upset Susan too much to attend many.

"Well, King Peter asked some of us, including me, to go back to the North. They don't have many soldiers left up there and I already know Giant country so well -- "

Lucy could hear the note of pride in his voice – pride at being a valued soldier, and at having Peter's trust.

"Of course I didn't want to miss the battle here," he continued. "But I can see the wisdom in sending men up to the border."

Lucy wasn't sure what to think. Roydon may very well be safer to the North than here, but if violence broke out with the Giants, he would probably be in even more danger. At any rate, he would not be near her and she would have to worry about him everyday. She turned away from him.

"I thought you were through with all that," she said and she wondered why he had gone out of his way to tell her first of all.

"I would tell you to go away to the countryside for the moment, but I know that you wouldn't leave Cair, especially in this time of trouble," he paused and dunked his head, as though embarrassed. "I shall miss you, Lucy."

She turned toward him. It seemed that they were both anxious for one another. "I will be careful if you will," she said, smiling at him.

He smiled a bit, but seemed distracted. "Will you wait for me?" he muttered under his breath.

"What?" she asked, not immediately understanding him.

He put his hand under her chin and gently lifted her face towards his. She moved nearer and nearer and when they kissed, she could not be sure if _she _had kissed him or if _he _had kissed her.


	12. The Sound of Battle

**Chapter Twelve: The Sound of Battle**

_Peter_

Peter stood on one of the castle's balconies looking down at where his son was toddling about in the courtyard. Peter watched the boy cling to his stuffed rabbit and giggle as his nurse chased him across the courtyard.

"This is my son," Peter said to himself, under his breath. Still, saying it did not make it seem any more real. He could not associate this bashful toddler with the babe he had held in his arms after his wife's death. Jonathan did not act like his son any more than Peter acted like the boy's father. They were nearly strangers to one another.

Peter looked over the courtyard wall to get a glimpse of the sea beyond. Usually, he would be looking to the sea to admire its beauty or perhaps to catch one of Narnia's ships sailing by, her Lion's banner flapping proudly in the wind. Today, Peter searched for Terebinthians. He counted seven ships today, though he knew that there were more just out of his sight, beyond the horizon and further down the coast. Torim tried to keep the bulk of his strength out of sight, to keep Peter always guessing at how many ships stood poised to attack Narnia. Torim's strength at sea was greater than Narnia's, Peter knew, though half of his force were pirates.. Peter's own forces were loyal, but they knew less of the sea than the islanders who had been raised to it.

Torim had thought that it would be easy to take Cair Paravel, but Peter knew that once the Terebinthian took to land that he, not Torim, would have the advantage. Torim knew this as well, though of course he was not willing to admit it. Torim wanted Susan and his children and it had wounded his pride terribly when she had run away. To him, the solution was simple; Susan was his wife and Peter should hand her over. But Peter could never force his sister to live in a place and with a man that made her so unhappy. Susan, however, had a gentle spirit and she couldn't stand to think that all this fuss and the threat of war was on account of her. She had wanted to go back with him, but Peter had forbidden it.

Peter heard a female sniffle beside him. He looked over to see a young woman, her face mostly covered by a veil looking out in the same direction as he. Peter realized that she was one of the women that Susan had brought back with her from Terebinthia.

"My lady?" Peter felt it his duty to say, for she seemed to be crying. "Are you well? Does the sight of the ships trouble you?"

She wiped the tears from under her eyes quickly. "Oh, no," she said, "it isn't that."

Peter noticed that she was not looking out at the sea, but down at the courtyard. She was watching his son in the same way that he had been doing earlier.

"He looks so much like my little boy, Your Majesty," she said huskily, after a moment.

"You have a little boy, my lady?" Peter asked hesitantly, sensing her sorrow.

"I left him in Terebinthia," she said. "I never could have got him away from his father, but I had to leave."

"Was he cruel to you, my lady?"

"He was -- " she said, but didn't finish, turning away from as if overwhelmed by some emotion.

"You shouldn't worry about your husband," Peter said, feeling oddly protective. "You are in Narnia now and he can't reach you." Peter realized immediately how empty this sounded when there was a Terebinthian force poised to attack. He would defeat Torim. He had to defeat Torim. The girl looked at him, some indescribable emotion in her face, and then she turned and ran. Peter called after her, but she ran anyway. He stood on the balcony a few minutes longer pondering until a messenger came to tell him that the fighting had begun. Peter was almost relieved to have the waiting over.

Susan 

Susan was in her sitting room surrounded by ladies – most of them the Terebinthians whom she had brought with her. The women, the ones who had stayed near Cair, seemed more comfortable with her. Many of them confided in her their fears and sorrows, and these ladies had many.

Susan had been young when the war had started back in her old world – England. But she still remembered how it had drawn the women together. The same seemed to be happening here; the ladies came together in small groups, lending one another courage. There had been small skirmishes out to sea for days now, but no decisive battle. Peter told her that all was going well, but Susan had to wonder. She patted her big belly miserably. Her child would be born soon. Most likely to the sounds of battle, of his or her father trying to capture her mother. How had she messed everything up so badly? She had always been so practical.

But this wasn't true. Marrying Torim had been truly impractical. But she had been in love with him. No matter how he might hurt her now, she had been in love with him. Susan was unusually quiet and she knew that her ladies must have been wondering what was wrong with her.

They were working on embroidery. Susan's had improved much in the last few years, though she still didn't like it much. Lucy, who was sitting across from her was much more dreadful than she and she saw the others eyeing Lucy's work with something like disdain. Lucy looked down at her own embroidery and scowled, seeming to know that it was terrible. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, not for the first time. "I feel so useless here, doing nothing. I've been trained to use a bow and arrow. So have many of the Narnian ladies. Why won't Peter let us fight?"

Susan honestly could not understand this idea of her sister's. Archery was a pleasant pastime, but war would horrible. It wasn't so much the thought of her own death that troubled Susan as it was the blood and death and suffering of others all around. The idea of killing another person was too horrible for Susan to even contemplate. She did not understand how her brothers did it, but she was glad that, as a woman, she was not expected to participate. "Don't talk so, Lucy," she said, smiling at her sister a bit in spite of herself. "I would not like to think of you running off and getting yourself killed. Are you so eager for blood?"

Lucy crossed her arms, nearly pouting as she had done when she was younger. "No. I don't think that any good person is eager for blood. I only want to fight for the same reasons Peter and Edmund do. To protect Narnia and my family."

One of the Terebinthian women, young and blue eyed and the only one who still wore a veil over her face spoke up. "If it please Your Majesty, women are not made for battle. We do our fighting in the child birthing bed where many of us die --" the young woman looked over at Susan and seemed to realize that this was the wrong thing to say in the presence of a lady whose time was so near. She blushed and Marna, who was seated near Lucy, chastised her.

"Then I think that they would give us more medals and honors for it," Marna snapped, a bit sharper than Susan thought necessary. Susan knew that her sister-in-law was pregnant again, though it did not yet show, and she was perceptive enough to know that know that Marna and Edmund were having some sort of marriage troubles. Edmund wasn't even at Cair – he was to the south with a small force, supposedly to guard against attack in a vulnerable port town, though Susan did not believe this story. Peter hadn't wanted Ed to leave, but her younger brother had insisted. Susan thought this very odd.

The girl flushed in anger and glared at Marna. "The lady Marna forgets --" she began, but at that moment, Susan cried out, clutching her stomach in pain. Susan had suspected all morning that she was going into labor; now she was sure.

Lucy ran to her. "Susan!" she exclaimed. "Oh, no Susan, not now," Lucy soothed Susan's hair back from her face.

Susan looked around at the panicked women and knew that she had to be strong. She sat up and tried not to grimace from the pain. "Regina," she said calmly to her lady-in-waiting. "Fetch the midwife, please."

Edmund 

Edmund had never been able to relate to strangers as well as his brother and sisters. Lucy had always found a friend in everyone worth befriending, Susan knew just what to say to put people at ease, and Peter was able to command the respect of all. Edmund wasn't like this. Small talk irritated him and he never knew what to say in social situations. Even here in Narnia, Edmund had always been much more inclined to draw a small circle of friends about him. He knew that many of his subjects thought him snobbish for it, but he certainly didn't mean to give off this impression.

Edmund held a letter absently in his hands, as he sat in his friend's study. "What does it say?" his friend Yulan asked. Edmund had gone south to lead a small force, but he spent most of his time at his friend's house drinking chilled wine and sitting by the river. This place most likely wouldn't be attacked, but Peter _had _been planning to send a force this way and Edmund had told his brother that he might as well be the one to lead it. Edmund got up and began pacing around Yulen's sitting room. "It is as we feared," he said, "Cair Paravel has been attacked."

"I knew it when I saw that they were withdrawing ships," Yulan said. Many people whispered that Yulan was Edmund's lover, but it was not so. Yulan courted a different young woman every other week or so. A few whispered that it was not Yulan, but Peridan, the young lord who was supposed to have command of this flank of Peter's army before Edmund rather suddenly decided he wanted to get away from Cair. Peridan stayed at Yulan's house nearly as much as Edmund himself, but it was not true that he was Edmund's lover. He was married with two children and another on the way and Edmund was not sure that the man even liked him.

Edmund had received a letter from Marna a few weeks ago, telling him that she was going to have another child. He had torn the letter up and thrown it into the sea. He didn't want to think about having another child with Marna at the moment.

"Shall we take our regiment back to Cair to help in the battle? It might not be too late," Yulan suggested half-heartedly. Edmund wondered if his friend sensed how guilty he felt, being away from his family at a time like this. Edmund wondered if people also whispered that he was a coward – he had not heard of them doing so, but one never knew. Perhaps the fact that he had already proved himself several times in battle – against the witch, and later clearing out her followers – stayed their tongues.

Edmund shook his head. "Peter wants us to stay here. Besides, it would probably be too late by the time we got there."

"Oh," Yulan did not seem surprised. "King Edmund --" he said, hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"There was another letter. One from your wife."

"Give it to me," Edmund commanded. Yulan took a letter off his desk and handed it to Edmund. Edmund looked down at the parchment, fingering the wax seal. Then he ripped the letter, unopened, into pieces and threw them into Yulan's small fireplace.

Lucy 

Lucy stroked her sister's hand as Susan panted and struggled not to scream. "You're doing well, Su," Lucy told her, soothingly, but Susan did not seem comforted. "It will all be over soon." Lucy wished that there were others to help her comfort her sister. The midwife was a dwarf woman who was skilled, but not terribly soothing. Susan's lady-in-waiting, Regina, was the only other person in the room and she was a panicked wreck.

Susan's room was dark and stuffy. It was not yet nighttime, but Lucy had drawn the curtains tightly closed because the sight of the smoke in the air had upset Susan. Something was burning to the north where the battle was raging. When Lucy opened the window and listened carefully, she could hear the faint sounds of fighting. She had closed the window also.

"How much longer?" Susan asked the midwife and Lucy could tell that her sister was trying to keep her voice steady.

The midwife scowled. "It's hard to say. A couple more hours at least."

Susan sighed and leaned back onto her pillow.

"Don't worry, Su," Lucy said, feeling so very sorry for her sister. "I'll stay here with you until it's finished."

"Lucy … Lucy …" Susan sighed. "I wish that this wasn't happening now. Does that make me a horrible person? For not wanting my baby to come."

"Oh, no, Su," Lucy said, emphatically. "Who would want their baby to come at a time like this?"

"I hope it's a girl," Susan whispered, "so that Torim won't want it."

Tears of sympathy filled Lucy's eyes. She could only imagine what Susan must be going through. What she must have went through when she was a prisoner in Terebinthia.

"You," the midwife said, pointing at Lucy. "Go get some fresh linens." Lucy crossed her arms. She certainly couldn't accuse the dwarf of being intimidated by royalty.

"Of course," Lucy said, shrugging. She patted Susan's hand. "I'll be right back, Su," she told her sister and Susan nodded, briefly.

Lucy got up and straightened her dress, her legs stiff from sitting for so long. She opened the door and stepped into the hallway, glad to be away from the hot, stuffy birthing room, if only for a moment. She walked down the hallway and around the corner and came face to face with three armed men. Lucy gave a small shriek of surprise. She could tell, almost immediately, that they were Terebinthian. Lucy shrank away from them, but the one in the middle, a big man with shaggy hair, grabbed her by the arm and drew her to him.

"Where is the Queen Susan, girl?" he asked her roughly.

Lucy realized that they did not know who she was. "I don't know," she lied, her voice shaking a bit, not only from fear, but because she was unused to telling lies.

The man drew a long, curved dagger and pressed it against her breast. "I have no time for games," he said. "Tell me where I may find the Queen Susan and you shall live. Refuse to cooperate and, well …"

Lucy's heart was beating fast. She didn't know how these Terebinthians had made it past the many guards, but they had obviously been sent to kidnap Susan. The man relaxed his hand, so that the dagger was no longer pinching her flesh, smiling at his friends a bit. Apparently, he thought that she was no threat. Her hand went impulsively to a ruby bead that she wore around her neck. Roydon had given it to her. But Roydon was far away. Her brothers were far away. Lucy's hand darted to her side where she kept her dagger. If she had been thinking clearly, she probably never would have drawn a weapon against three heavily armed men, but she was not thinking clearly. She only knew that she had to get away from them and keep them from her sister. She drew her dagger and slashed at his hand. The blade connected with his flesh and caused him to drop his own dagger and double over in pain, nursing his hand. She then quickly slashed the dagger across the face of one of the others causing him to scream. The third, however, grabbed her hand, twisting it until she dropped her weapon on the ground. He continued to hold her firmly by the arm.

"Kill her!" the man whose hand she had slashed cried out. "Kill that little whore!" Lucy could see that blood was flowing from his hand and falling upon the floor. The man whose face she had slashed was crying and Lucy realized, queasily, that his eye was a bloody mess. The man who was holding her arm drew his dagger and Lucy was certain that he was going to kill her. At that moment, however, Lucy felt his body go limp and he fell away from her.

Lucy turned around and found Marna drawing her own dagger from the Terebinthian's back. Lucy realized that she was lucky that the man hadn't been wearing armor. The man with the wounded hand struggled to draw his sword, but Lucy had cut his sword hand, making him slow and clumsy. Before he could draw his blade, Marna had stabbed him through the heart. Marna, Lucy now remembered, had gone to find out news of the war, but had been planning to come back up to the birthing room.

Lucy grabbed her dagger from the ground, afraid that the third would try something, but as Marna pointed her dagger at him, he shrank away and whimpered in fear. "Please don't kill me!" he cried pathetically. "I never meant … please don't kill me."

"Remove your sword," Marna said. The man did so, taking off scabbard and all and handing it to Marna. "Lucy. Lucy," Marna said, drawing Lucy's attention away from the dying men on the floor. "You should go outside and alert the guards at the door. You know how thick the walls are here. They likely didn't hear a thing."

"They are still there?" Lucy blurted. There were guards posted at the entrance to the royal chambers, but Lucy had assumed that these men must have killed them.

"They were there when I walked through a moment ago and they didn't seem to sense anything amiss. These men likely got through some of the hidden passages in the castle. I'll wager that Susan showed Torim how to get into her chambers discretely a time or two."

Lucy was having a hard time taking her eyes off the men lying on the floor. "You stabbed him in the back," Lucy said, a note of accusation creeping into her voice. Peter had always said that it wasn't honorable to stab an enemy in the back.

"They were going to kill you," Marna said. "A woman alone, virtually unarmed. These were no knights, Lucy."

Lucy nodded shakily and went to fetch the guards. They took the men away, hoping that the one who had surrendered would be able to tell them something about Torim. Then, they found that the men had got in through a passage under the floor in a spare bedroom.

Lucy tried to look calm and queenly rather than scared and shaken and sick which was how she felt. "I want guards at the entrance to Susan's quarters as well as at the passage where they got in," she told them. "And one patrolling these hallways."

"Of course, Your Majesty," said the captain of the castle guards, who had been called up.

Then, Marna came to her, holding two swords, one of which she handed to Lucy. Lucy saw that she had taken the weapons from the Terebinthians. "Here," Marna said. "In case the guards fail."

Lucy took the sword, handling it awkwardly and nearly dropping it. Marna watched her carefully.

"You do not know how to use a sword," Marna said. It was not a question, but a statement.

Lucy didn't answer, but she handed the sword back to Marna. It seemed large and unwieldy and she was as likely to cut off her own hand as she was to give serious threat to a trained swordsman. Marna looked her over.

"I would suggest that you learn before you beg your brother to be sent into battle again," she told Lucy. "You can bet that all of Peter's soldiers – all the _human_ ones – have basic knowledge of how to use a sword, even if they are archers." She lightly gripped the sword and tested its weight. "Sword and lance, daggers and bow, perhaps even the axe. These are the weapons that young men of good breeding are taught to use. Women only learn how to use a dagger and bow and arrow, if that."

Lucy looked at her. "But _you _know how to use a sword," she said, seeing the easy way that Marna handled the weapon.

Marna waved this off. "As well as a squire, perhaps, though not so well as most knights. Come. Let's get back to your sister."


	13. Bad News

**Chapter Thirteen: Bad News**

_Peter_

There were an unusual number of petitions to the king this month as a result of the recent conflict with Terebinthia. Peter's army had been victorious, more or less, but as with any battle or war, many people had lost something or someone. There were petitions from families whose homes had been destroyed, most especially in the fire that the Terebinthians had set in the latter hours of the battle, merchants whose shops were destroyed, newly made widows and orphans, and people who were just trying to make some money out of the confusion. Peter still hadn't come to terms with Torim either, and many of his subjects were making suggestions for what his terms should be.

Peter and his sisters had been listening for hours when Marna approached them. Peter sat up when he saw her and paid even more attention when he saw that she was accompanied by the veiled lady whom Peter had once spoken to on the balcony. Marna was somewhat pale, though she looked more presentable than was her habit. Her pregnancy was beginning to show. Edmund was still staying to the south despite the fact that war with Terebinthia was basically over. Peter knew that he was not getting along with Marna and Peter had heard rumors that he was enjoying the company of one of Narnia's lords a little _too _much. If he stayed away much longer, Peter would have to go have a longtalk with his brother, as much as he dreaded it.

But why was Marna petitioning him in court? She was Edmund's wife. Surely, if there were anything she needed, she would come to him privately? The veiled girl beside Marna had her head bowed and Peter wondered if the petition was for her.

"Your Majesties," Marna said, making the appropriate curtsey. The girl beside of her curtsied also, almost identically.

"My lady Marna," Peter said, tearing his eyes away from the young women and nodding at Marna. "What would you ask of us?"

Marna chewed on her lip nervously. "Your Majesty," she said to Peter. "My sister would ask a favor of you."

"You sister?" he asked, confused. Marna had many sisters, but what could she mean? "You mean _this _is your sister?" he asked seeing a look pass between Marna and the veiled girl.

Marna looked at him uncertainly. "Yes," she said, "this is my sister, Kiera."

Kiera. Peter remembered that Kiera, who was between Marna and Ethnee in age, had married a man from one of the islands. Was it Terebinthia? Peter was not sure, for he had not been at the wedding nor had he ever met her husband.

"This is Kiera?" asked Susan who was sitting next to him. Susan had spoken little all day. This was her first time attending court since the birth of her son. "Do you mind taking off the veil and showing us?" Susan did not sound skeptical so much as surprised. Peter realized that his sister had brought this woman back with her from Terebinthia, and from the expression on her face, had not suspected a thing.

Kiera's looked slightly fearful as she looked around the throne room. Her blue eyes met Peter's and he found that he could not look away. He realized, with a sharp pain, that she had the same eyes as Ethnee. Still looking at him, she nodded. "I will remove the veil," she said. Peter wondered why on earth she had felt the need to wear it in the first place.

She took the veil off and Peter saw that she must have been planning for this to happen, for her blonde hair was fixed nicely. She looked much the way that Peter remembered, though she seemed tired and agitated. He most definitely recognized her as Kiera. She was taller than Ethnee, her blonde hair was straight, and her face more pointed, but she actually looked a good deal like his late wife.

"What favor would you ask of us, my lady?" Peter asked, huskily.

She lowered her eyes. "My son is in Terebinthia with his father. I was not able to bring him with me when I left. His father is one of King Torim's high lords and I would have you ask that my son be returned to me when you discuss terms with the Terebinthians.

Peter sucked in his breath. He could easily sympathize with Kiera wanting her son, especially if her husband was not a kind man, but this would be difficult to negotiate. The Terebinthians would view it as a private, family matter and not something to be negotiated in treaties, especially since none of the parties involved were royal. Looking into her big, sad eyes, however, Peter found it hard to refuse her.

"I will see what I can do."

_Susan_

Susan was getting a headache. They had been sitting in the council room negotiating with Terebinthia for hours. Surprisingly, ironing out relations between Narnia and Terebinthia was the easy part. _She _was what made matters difficult. Torim was refusing to give her a divorce.

"I've told you again and again," Torim said, red-faced, to Peter. "Absolutely not. Divorces are not done in Terebinthia. My people will not accept it."

"You were not married in Terebinthia," Peter said calmly, but firmly. "You were married in Narnia where Susan has more than enough cause to divorce you. This is not negotiable. I will not force my sister to remain married to you."

"You would never have to see me again," Torim growled, turning to Susan. "But we must remain married. Don't you want your son to sit on the throne of Terebinthia someday? A divorce would jeopardize this."

"Su doesn't care about your Terebinthia," Lucy told Torim derisively. Torim jumped. He always seemed surprised whenever Lucy spoke.

It was true enough that Susan had hated Terebinthia. Torim did have a point, however. Terebinthia was her son's birthright, the same as her own throne was her daughter's birthright. Susan would not rob him of it if she could help it.

Peter frowned. "If your countrymen will not accept the babe as King when the time comes, then so be it. But I will not see my sister tied down to a man such as you, unable to marry again."

One of Torim's advisors began whispering furiously to him. Susan could hear bits and pieces of their conversation. It seemed that Torim's advisor did not think his king in the position to be making demands. Torim seemed to be furious at Peter's comment and at the whole situation in general. Her husband was not used to being crossed.

Finally, he turned back to them, seemingly with great difficulty. "I will agree to a divorce if you agree on a few conditions."

Peter shrugged and looked at Susan. "I suppose that there is no harm in hearing these conditions," Susan said, trying to sound imposing. Torim smirked at her. He had always been able to see through her.

Torim laced his hands together. "Firstly I would ask that you not put about any slanderous rumors about why Susan and I divorced."

Lucy frowned at him. "We will not lie to our subjects if that is what you are asking," she said.

"I did not say that you should," Torim said, gritting his teeth. "I only ask that neither you nor your any of your assistants speak of our reasons for separating."

"Done," Susan said quickly, cutting off Peter who seemed ready to object. She did not want people talking of her failed marriage any more than Torim did. She just wanted to put it behind her and this would be easier if everyone would forget it as soon as possible.

Peter frowned at her, but turned to Torim. "What are your other conditions?" he asked.

"That my son's name, as is tradition in Terebinthia, be a derivative of my own. And that he be called by it."

"Susan has already named herson," Lucy said. Susan had decided on the name Willam for him.

Torim seemed to already know this, but he waved it off. "I was given to understand that a child's name is not official in Narnia until he is presented, in this case to the kingdom."

This was true and as it had been a very chaotic month, Susan's son had not yet been presented. The idea of naming her son after Torim was repulsive to Susan, but not as repulsive as the idea of more fighting. "Any other conditions?" she asked.

Torim took a deep breath. "I want my children sent to visit me once every two years for a period of --"

"No," Susan said, firmly.

"That's right," Peter said. "After your attempts to keep Susan prisoner, how do we know that you won't try the same with the children? I know it seems hard," Peter forestalled Torim's objections, "but if you really want to see your children, then you can do so here in Narnia. Provided, of course, that only bring one ship with you when you come."

Torim's face went red. "And how do I know that you won't try to harm me while I am in Narnia?" he fumed. "You give me no trust, but ask that I give you a great deal."

"I understand your concerns," Peter said, "but we are not the ones who have proved faithless." Peter could be very stoic, a quality for which Susan was often grateful.

Torim slammed his hand down hard on the table and Susan could see that he was truly upset. "Susan is my wife!" he yelled. "Stop acting as if I kidnapped her. She was my wife and I was keeping her where she belongs – with me."

"You kept Susan prisoner!" Lucy exclaimed. "And you expect us --" Peter put a hand on his youngest sister's shoulder and she stopped in the middle of her sentence.

"Regardless of what reasons you may have had, this outburst only heightens our fears that you may try to keep the children, were we to send them to you. Surely, you must think of them as your possessions as well as Susan."

"I don't --" Torim began angrily, but his advisor began speaking to him again and after a moment, he turned back to them. "Very well," he said with great reluctance. Torim was not used to not getting his way. "But I want my son sent to Terebinthia when he reaches the age of fourteen for a period of five years to learn about his country."

Peter looked at Susan in question. This did not seem like an unreasonable request. If her son was to become King of Terebinthia one day, then it seemed right that he at least know the place. On the other hand, Susan did not like the idea of forcing her son – at the age of fourteen too – to go to such a dreadful place. Or the idea of placing him in Torim's hands.

She realized that everyone was looking at her. "He may go," she said, heavily, "provided that he agrees to it when the time comes."

"Why would he agree to it?" another of Torim's advisors questioned. "You will poison him against Terebinthia and his own father."

"I won't," Susan said faintly. She was not looking forward of speaking to her children about their father.

"He will agree to it," Torim said grimly. "Because you will give him to understand that he will not inherit my throne if he does not."

Torim seemed to think that this was sufficient threat to convince anyone. It certainly would have swayed him. She sometimes wondered if he hadn't meant to get a hold on one of the Narnian thrones from the time that he started courting her. Whether the Terebinthian throne would be an incentive for Susan's son remained to be seen. Susan suddenly wished that Edmund were here. He was good at ironing out treaties and such and perhaps he would have been able to think of something. But Edmund and Marna had still not reconciled.

"What about Ambrosia?" Lucy asked, suddenly.

"What?" Torim asked, as though interrupted in his thoughts.

"Ambrosia? Your daughter." Susan motioned furiously for Lucy to keep quiet. What if Torim decided that he wanted Ambrosia too? But Lucy did not seem to realize this and was genuinely curious.

Torim gave a cruel smirk that Susan knew was for her benefit. "What do I want with a girl?" he asked.

_Edmund_

Edmund began flinging his clothing into a bag, his hands shaking.

"Edmund," he heard his friend Yulan say, "are you sure that you are going to be well?"

Edmund was now looking for his sword in a hurried manner. "I'll be fine. I just have to get back to Cair. I should never have left her for so long …"

An urgent message had just come from the castle. Marna was in childbirth and was probably dying.

"It wasn't your fault. Anyone would have been upset," Edmund had confided what Marna had done to him to Yulan and Peridan one night several weeks ago.

"I shouldn't have – I shouldn't --"

"You need to calm down," said Peridan and Edmund jumped. He had not realized that Peridan had followed him to his room. Edmund looked at him and saw that his grey eyes were sincere, even sympathetic, but his voice was firm. "You are in no state to ride back to Cair as you are."

"He's right," Yulan put in. "I don't think you should go."

"How can I not go?" Edmund asked. "She's _dying_. And the child …"

"I agree with you," Peridan said, looking at him with great intensity. Edmund remembered that Peridan had children of his own. "You have to go. You just need to take a deep breath and calm down a bit."

Edmund ignored him. Yulan sighed. "I should probably go with him," he said to Peridan, but Edmund noticed a definite note of reluctance in his friend's voice.

"I'll go," Peridan said and Edmund was too weary to protest.

--- -- ---

She lay on the bed, pale and thinner than Edmund remembered her, despite having just had a child. All the way back to the castle, Edmund had told himself that if Marna lived, he would make things right with her. He did care about her and they had two children together. What she did to him was wrong, but she was sorry for it and it was time to forgive her. Looking at her looking back at him, however, Edmund could not help but feel a surge of anger and resentment. He had been so determined to be a good father and Marna had taken that away from him.

He sat down at her bedside. "You're well?" he asked. He had been told that the threat to her life was over.

"No," she said, "but I'm not going to die, if that is what you mean." There was a long awkward silence in which Marna wouldn't look at him. "Wouldn't you like to look at the baby?" she asked, finally.

Edmund sighed. "Yes," he said.

"He's asleep in the crib, over there," Marna gestured. "Don't wake him."

Edmund slowly walked over to the crib and looked down at his son. The baby had a great deal of dark hair and was an altogether attractive newborn. "Have you named him yet?" Edmund asked.

"Gareth, I thought."

"I like it," Edmund told her, honestly.

"They don't think … they don't think that I can have any more. Children, I mean."

"Oh," Edmund came back over to her and sat down. "So, what do we do now?" he asked, reluctantly.

Marna looked away from him. "You can have a divorce if you want it," she said. Edmund had been thinking of something like this, but as soon as the words came out of Marna's mouth, he was against it. Marna would want to take the children and he would want to keep them at Cair Paravel. Besides, they had once had an amicable marriage. Surely, there wasn't any reason why they couldn't have one again.

"I don't want a divorce," he said, crossing his arms.

"What _do _you want, then?" Marna said, not as if she were angry, but as if she were honestly curious. "I can do no more than apologize for the way that things turned out with Jolie and I've done that countless times. I don't particularly want a divorce – I think that our boys will be happier if we stay together – but it seems to me that you must either divorce me or forgive me and you refuse to do either."

Edmund sighed. She was right of course. There was no use in holding on to a grudge against his wife forever and who was he to deny anyone else forgiveness? "I was upset," Edmund said. "But it no longer matters."

"Good," Marna gave him a tremulous smile and for the first time, Edmund realized that he probably shouldn't be taxing her with so many worries so soon after her birthing. Yet, he could not resist asking one more thing.

"Have you heard from _her_?"

Marna sighed. "Jolie? Yes, she has written me two letters."

"May I see them?" Edmund asked, hating the tone of anxiousness in his own voice.

"They are personal," Marna said reproachfully, but after looking at him, her expression changed to one of pity. "She had her baby almost two months ago," she informed him, "A boy. She says he is healthy."

"I see," Edmund said, a flood of emotions coursing through him.

Marna placed a hand on his arm. "There is nothing you can do. You should try to forget about all of this mess."

Edmund closed his eyes. "I'll try."

_Lucy_

Lucy grunted heavily as another blow landed against her shield. The arms master was giving her fencing lessons. They had been going at it all day and were just getting ready to call it quits when Lucy noticed that Susan was standing at the end of the practice yard, looking on anxiously. Lucy sighed, thinking that Susan had come to tell her of the dangers of sword fighting again, but another look at her sister's face told her that it was something else.

Lucy sheathed her sword and approached Susan. "What is it?" she asked.

Susan opened her mouth and closed it again, as if unsure what to say. "Peter and I need to speak to you, dear," she said, softly.

Lucy frowned. She could tell by Susan's tone that it was something serious. "Let me go change out of my armor and into something fresh," she said.

Susan looked Lucy up and down, her eyes seeming to take in the old leather armor that Lucy was wearing and her sweaty face. "Never mind that," she said, gently, "just come."

Lucy followed her sister, uneasily, into the throne room where Peter was alone and pacing back and forth. "What is it?" she abruptly repeated her question to Susan to her brother. Their behavior was making her very anxious.

"Lucy --" Peter said, hesitating, "there has been trouble to the north."

"Trouble?" Lucy asked, fearing that it would mean war with the giants again.

Peter hesitated again, but after Susan gave him an encouraging nod, he continued. "A small scouting party has been kidnapped, we think."

Lucy sighed in relief. If it were only a small party, then things couldn't be too bad yet. But she almost immediately began to worry. Why would Peter and Susan tell her in this way unless some friend of hers was captured? Then, Lucy realized who it must be. "Roydon," she said, her hand going to the necklace that she wore around her neck.

Susan placed a hand on her shoulder, but Lucy barely felt it through her armor. "We knew that you were courting?" it was half a question, for though it was accurate to say that they had been courting, they were only at the beginning of the courtship. "Lucy I'm so sorry," and Susan gave her a long hug.

Lucy looked over at Peter. "We'll get them back," Peter told her, but Lucy wondered if he wasn't speaking with more confidence than he felt. She had heard of the cruelty of the Giants. Negotiating for prisoners would be difficult and any rescue effort would be even more so.

Absently, Lucy fingered her sword hilt.


	14. Getting Back

**AN: Yes, it has been forever since I updated this fic, but I finally got to it! Reviews would be especially appreciated at this time so that I know whether or not there is still interest in this story. **

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Chapter 14: Getting Back

_Peter_

Kiera wasn't dressed in veils and baggy robes any longer. It was amazing, the difference that a formfitting blue dress could make. Peter caught himself admiring her figure as she bent and lifted his young son in her arms. Jonathan giggled in delight as she placed him on her lap. "Aunt," he said, distinctly, placing his arms around her neck. Peter was impressed that his son already seemed so comfortable with her. If he were being honest with himself, the boy wasn't even totally comfortable with him.

Kiera lifted her eyes up and caught sight of Peter standing behind the column in the garden. Peter flushed as he thought of how he must look – skulking in the corner. Kiera lowered her eyes demurely and then gave Jonathan and enthusiastic hug. "That's right, darling," she cooed. "I'm your Aunt. Auntie Kiera." Peter couldn't help but contrast her tender manner with the way Ethnee had been with Catherine when she was a baby. Catherine had deserved a tender mother, even if she only had her for a short while.

Kiera sat the boy down and then gave Peter a curtsey. "You must excuse me if it was not my place, Your Majesty," she said. "But I do so adore your little son. I come and spend time with him everyday."

Peter had not known that this was the case. He waved his hand, grandly. "It's perfectly fine," he said. "Jonathan could probably use more of a – ah – motherly influence in his life."

Kiera lowered her eyes as if thinking about something sad. "You have no idea how I miss my own son. Jonathan looks like him, a little. Well, I suppose _that _isn't surprising. People used to say that Ethnee and I looked alike." She tilted her head slightly to the side. "Do you see it, your Majesty?"

"I – yes," Peter replied, a bit gruffly. Kiera was taller than Ethnee and her hair was straight, but there was something in the lines of the face and in the eyes that reminded Peter very much of his dead wife.

"Ah," she breathed, smiling. "I should be as lucky to be as pretty as Ethnee used to be."

"Don't be ridiculous, Kiera," said another voice, brusquely. Peter jumped. He thought that they had been alone except for Jonathan and the guards at the other end of the garden. Peter turned and saw Marna approaching them, holding her eldest son. He groaned inwardly. "Everyone always said that you were the pretty one," Marna told her sister. "Well, maybe not father, but Ethnee was always his favorite."

"What are you doing here, Marna?" Kiera asked, a bit irritated.

"You were _supposed _to bring Jonathan up to play with Gwain, remember?" Marna asked her. Kiera gave her sister a blank stare and Marna sighed. "Well, I guess that I shouldn't be all that surprised. Gwain's been looking forward to this all day, you know."

"Gwain's a baby," Kiera said. Peter had been thinking just the same thing.

"Doesn't mean that he can't look forward to things," Marna countered, and indeed Gwain was wriggling in Marna's arms to get down to where his cousin was. Marna sat him down. "Kiera," she said, "a dressmaker was looking for you just now – something about measurements for a cape you are having made. Better go find him."

Kiera looked as though she would protest, but she seemed to think better of it and merely shot her sister a look. "Of course," she said, curtseying to Peter and smiling up to him, shyly. She left rather quickly, her skirts in a flurry, and Peter was left staring after her.

"What do you think you are doing?" Marna asked him, abruptly, a moment later.

Peter looked at her, absent-mindedly, his mind still on her sister. "What? Nothing."

Marna threw her voice into a high pitched tone. "I wish that _I _were as pretty as Ethnee," she said, imitating Kiera rather viciously. "Ridiculous," her voice went back to its normal tone.

"We were just talking," Peter said, annoyed. There was no reason for Marna to look at him as though they had done something wrong.

Marna looked down at the boys who were giggling and talking to one another and frowned. "Kiera isn't right for you," she said. "I know that she's very pretty, but you wouldn't like her once you got to know her."

Peter raised his eyebrows, he thought that this sounded a bit harsh. "She seems very sweet."

"I'm sure she does," Marna snapped. "She's taken it into her head that she is going to flirt with you _despite _the fact that she is married with a child."

Peter frowned at this. "I would not dishonor her if that is what you are suggesting. Nothing will happen between us. But even if it did, is she not getting a divorce?"

Marna's eyebrows shot straight up. "Is she? It seems to me that she is just taking a nice little holiday from her marriage," her voice was that of a person who is extremely agitated. "Would it be possible for you to find someone outside my family to be your little sweetheart? Or would you make Kiera just like Ethnee?"

Peter gasped, but Marna stood her ground. Was Marna blaming him for his wife's death? "You forget yourself, my lady," he stated, very coldly. "I would do nothing to harm a member of your family. Besides, Kiera is a grown woman. She does not need you watching over her affairs. Perhaps you should work a little harder at interesting your own husband." Peter wished that he hadn't said that last part – Marna and Edmund were getting along better these days and it had been a petty thing to bring up. Not at all like himself.

Marna had never been the least bit daunted by Peter – except, perhaps when speaking to him in front of the whole court – and now wasn't any different. "Edmund is a grown man," she said, smiling obnoxiously. "He doesn't need you watching over his affairs."

"Ah," Peter said. She had won, of course, but it had been a spiteful thing to do, turning his own words upon him. He did not wish to bicker with Marna like a twelve-year-old. "My lady," he said, simply, bowing to her and taking his leave quickly.

Susan

It was the first ball that Susan had attended since arriving back in Narnia. Everything was just as it had been before she left. All the funny creatures prancing around, gladly. The decorations of flowers, tapestries. The people all dressed in their best clothes, skirts swirling about the room. Her ladies in waiting gossiping around her. Lucy whispering amusing little jests in her ear and Edmund having a bit too much to drink and being jolly. Everything was the same, but Susan was different. She couldn't enjoy it in the same way.

She danced with Edmund, but his good humor only grated on her nerves. Why was he continually so childish? "You're drunk," she said, pushing him away from her at the end of the dance. Edmund gave her a wounded look, but went away.

Susan stood up straight. This was the best that Narnia had to offer and she was determined to have a good time. Gritting her teeth, she looked around for a new dance partner. Her eyes fell upon a familiar face and she put on her best smile.

Her former lover looked like little more than a boy as he smiled back at her, but he was still handsome. "Susan, Your Majesty," Alberic said, as if hardly able to believe that she was paying attention to him.

"Alberic," she said, as he approached her. She offered her hand to be kissed and he kissed it happily. "I haven't seen you in ages," her own voice sounded insincere, silly. She kept speaking anyway. "What _have _you been up to?"

Alberic's smile was very sincere, if a bit pitying. Pitying? Was Susan now someone to be pitied? "I am well, Susan," he said. "I was sorry to hear about everything you have been through. It must have been awful."

Susan felt cold. "It wasn't pleasant," she admitted, giving a tremulous smile. "But it is all over now, thank Aslan. But tell me --"

But Susan never got a chance to ask Alberic whatever inane question that had been in her head, for at that moment, a young woman came up and latched herself onto his arm. "Queen Susan," he said, uncomfortably, "I believe that you know my wife, Lyla?" Susan looked at the girl, blankly, knowing that she should be able to place her. Reddish hair, a few freckles, a snub nose, but rather pretty, all the same. Nothing to Susan herself, of course, but not bad looking. "Of course," she said, in a flood of relief as she recognized the girl. "You are Marna and Ethnee's sister." Wife, he had said. "Why, I didn't know that you had married our Alberic."

Lyla smirked at her and Susan remembered, vaguely, that she had always been rather grasping. "Oh, yes, we were married over a year ago. King Peter was at the wedding. I would have thought he'd have told you."

"Well," Susan said, faintly, "I am happy to see Alberic so well settled."

"Settled and with a family on the way," she said, rubbing her stomach, proudly. Susan sniffed in disdain. It was not polite to call attention to one's condition at a public function, to people you hardly knew.

"I wish you both the best of luck," she managed to say it gracefully enough, but she left them as soon as possible. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting. A dance? More? To pick up her life again as though she hadn't been married and held captive and had two children? Susan laughed at the thought. Perhaps she had drank a bit too much wine as well as Edmund, though it wasn't like her.

She smoothed her dress and smiled at those around her. Everyone would say that Queen Susan was radiant that night.

Edmund

"I still sleep with her, you know," Edmund said, his head thrown back against the chair and his eyes half closed as if he couldn't stand to look at the man beside of him.

"What do you mean?" Peridan asked, quietly.

"We make love," Edmund sat up and practically yelled.

"With Marna?"

Why was he being purposefully obtuse? Peridan was not an idiot. "Yes."

There was a long pause. Edmund sneaked a glance over to see Peridan chewing his lip. "Well that's good then," he said, almost reluctantly. "She's your wife. It is natural that you should lay together."

Edmund laughed, harshly. "There is hardly anything natural about the two of us. It wasn't part of the plan. It wasn't part of the agreement."

"Then why do you do it?" Peridan posed the question almost as if it were an intellectual inquiry.

Edmund sighed and then shrugged. "I don't know. She's there. We're married. It is nice to be with someone who you know is always going to be there. It isn't usually like that with people like me and Marna, but we are tied together by marriage and by our children."

"Oh," Peridan said, simply.

Edmund stood up and walked over to the window. "It must be a wonderful thing, to be truly in love with your wife."

"It must be," Peridan answered him, absently.

Edmund turned, sharply, and looked at him. "Do you not love your wife, then?" he asked, thinking of the girl that he had never seen, but who others called pretty. The girl who had given Peridan four children.

"What?" Peridan asked, distracted. "Yes, of course I do. I wasn't paying attention to what I was saying."

"How did you meet her?" Edmund asked, sitting down. He was somehow eager to hear about it – someone else's good fortune.

Peridan shrugged. "It was a match that our parents made when we were children. We met when I was eight years old."

"Oh," Edmund said. It wasn't exactly romantic, but since when was Edmund interested in romance, of all things? "When did you fall in love with her, then?"

Peridan thought about this for a moment. "I suppose after we were married. We only met a few times before then. But after the marriage … well, we started to go through things together, we got to know one another. She is really an amazing girl."

"She is," agreed Edmund, who found himself distracted by thin bristling of hair on Peridan's upper lip. He had kissed men with full beards and men with smooth faces, but he had never kissed someone with such a scratchy little mustache. He wondered how Peridan would feel if he kissed him. Edmund was pretty sure that he already knew how he would feel if he kissed Peridan.

Reckless, he leaned in and pressed his lips gently against Peridan's. The other man pulled away almost immediately. Edmund had been prepared for reluctance, but he hadn't been prepared for the look of surprise and disgust that Peridan was giving him. He usually had a good instinct for these types of things. "I – I'm sorry," Edmund stuttered. "I shouldn't have done that," he gave Peridan a nervous half smile which was not returned. "I guess that I've just had a little too much to drink." That was a lie.

Peridan sat perfectly still, giving Edmund an unreadable look. "Say something," Edmund muttered, finally.

Peridan was still quiet for a long moment before he spoke. His eyes never left his boots. "Your Majesty knows that my love you is such that I would do anything for you. Even if it dishonored me, even if it were a disgrace, but …"

Edmund felt his face heat up. He should have known. Sometimes, when he was speaking to Peridan, it was easy to forget how obsessed with his honor the other man was. Usually, people who were very intelligent weren't very honorable. They might be a little honorable – everyone needed a little honor – but it was not the glittering temptation for scholars and government servants that it was for knights looking for glory. Peridan, though – he was both honorable and intelligent and that made him hard to read.

Edmund shook his head to stop Peridan's labored explanations. "The last thing I would want is to lead you into dishonor," he had meant his voice to sound harsh, sarcastic, but it came out far more gentle than he had intended. He wondered if he had ruined this friendship. Peridan was his best friend of late.

As if sensing his worries, Peridan smiled at him. "You needn't be concerned. We can just forget this ever happened." Edmund sighed with relief even as he wondered how Peridan could think it a disgrace to lay with a man and yet still forgive Edmund so easily for it.

Later, that day, Peter came to him brandishing a letter that Lucy had left him and everything was chaos.

Lucy

It had been easy enough for Lucy to get away. All she had needed was the help of a few reluctant friends, a horse, and some supplies. She wrote a note to Peter, so that he and the others wouldn't worry (even though they would) and in an attempt to explain herself. That last part was hard. Even she wasn't sure why she was doing what she was doing. She hoped that they wouldn't worry too much.

Under her armor with her hair neatly hidden in her helmet, she was able to pass through the countryside without so much as a raised eyebrow. Nobody questioned a knight traveling north on his own. If they had looked closer, then they might have noticed her shape and height, but the humans ignored her and the Animals weren't terribly sensitive to differences between men and women. At first, she was worried that Peter would send someone to bring her back home, but if he did so, then they never caught up with her.

Once she got to the North, she found a Narnian battalion and though there was some confusion at first, Lucy was soon recognized. They treated her with the utmost respect, assuming that she was there to help with the war effort. And why not? There were females in the Narnian armies, though not human women. Recovering captives was at the top of their agenda and Lucy was more than happy to help. She did not tell them that this was the real reason she had come – it sounded so silly and girlish, running away to rescue a lover. She was pleased when the commander told her that she had a good head for strategy just like Peter, even though she knew that it was mostly flattery.

Somehow, Lucy had thought that when the rescued Roydon that he would see her immediately and they would embrace. It didn't happen that way. The battle was messy and confusing and once it was over, Lucy's mind was immediately on seeing to the injured, both soldiers and captives. She barely even thought of Roydon for the next three days.

In the end, he found her, in her tent. His arm was bandaged, and he was thinner, but he looked otherwise unharmed. "Lucy," he said, giving her a small, somewhat broken smile. "I saw you after the battle – from afar."

Lucy nearly knocked over her inkpot. "I saw you too," she said. She wanted to hug him, but not because she was in love with him. She wanted to hug him because he looked so unsure. "I wanted to come to you, but there were so many people – so many people who needed me."

Roydon smiled again. "You are always so considerate."

Lucy looked away, a bit embarrassed. He sat down in the chair beside her and turned so that he was facing her. "Lucy," he murmured, "why did you come here?"

"For you," Lucy said. She didn't want to say it, but it was the truth and Lucy nearly always told the truth.

He took her hand. "For me?" he asked. "I wouldn't have asked you to take such risks, to go to such lengths. The knight is supposed to be the one who rescues the lady, after all."

"Don't you think," she said, quietly, "that the lady would rescue the knight if it were in her power? But it never is, in stories like that. She is always a weak, silly little thing. Not like a real woman at all. And the knight never needs rescuing he's always --"

She was cut off abruptly as Roydon leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, but gradually more intense. "Lucy," he said, drawing away, as if he would get up. Trembling, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to her for another long kiss and she knew that she was lost for his hands were all over her and his lips were eager.

Lucy lay, looking up at roof of her tent, barely visible in the darkness. She felt a cold tear slide down her face and wiped it away. It had been good – perhaps not _everything _she had imagined, but good, nonetheless – but then everything had been ruined in a single moment. Roydon didn't realize what he had done; he had been half asleep at the time. Lucy wished that she could forget it. She didn't blame him, exactly – they might have been happy but for that one little word – but once spoken, it could never be ignored. She couldn't go on with him now, knowing.

"Lucy," Roydon muttered, sleepily, beside her. He was smiling and it broke her heart because she should be as happy as he appeared right now. He rolled over and his eyes flitted open. "Are you crying?" he asked, as if trying to rouse himself.

She wasn't – not anymore. She pulled the blanket up around her breasts. "I think you should go," she said, surprised at how queenly and stern she sounded.

Roydon's eyebrows drew together, confused. "What's wrong, darling?" he asked, his arm encircling her shoulders. "Did I – did I do something wrong? Did I make you unhappy?"

She shrugged, unwilling to tell him.

"Just tell me what is wrong, and I'll try to fix it," he said. "I wouldn't want to hurt you --"

"You said her name," Lucy said, seeing that this was going to become a long argument if she didn't speak up. "It was afterwards – you were drifting off to sleep and I wrapped my arms around and you looked so happy. And you said her name. Susan's," she clarified at the confused look on his face.

"Oh," he said. "Oh, Lucy. Did I really? I don't remember it at all." He made a valiant attempt to hug her, but Lucy remained stiff in his arms. "Please forgive me," he begged. "I'll do anything."

Lucy shook her head. "I'm sorry. I understand. I just can't go on this way."

"I don't remember it," his voice took on a desperate tone. "Though I believe that it must be so because I know that you wouldn't lie and aren't one to imagine slights. Lucy, please. I love you."

Lucy began crying again and she knew that he saw. "Please don't hurt me anymore," she said, managing to fight back sobbing. "Leave."

"Like I said," he whispered, "the last thing I want is to hurt you." He began gathering his things. Lucy didn't look at him again.


	15. Parenting

**Chapter Fifteen: Parenting**

_Peter_

"She's lovely as well," said Kiera who was holding little Catherine in her lap. "Your children are angels." She laughed, gaily, and Peter found that her laugh was infectious. Soon, he was laughing as well, though she hadn't said anything terribly funny. "Do they take after their father in that regard?" she asked.

"No," Peter said, smiling. "It must be their mother's family that makes them so sweet."

Kiera raised a coy eyebrow. "You have met my sister Marna, correct?"

This caused Peter to laugh though he knew that he shouldn't. "Aunt Marna may be a little rough around the edges, but Aunt Kiera has enough grace to make up for it." Peter wondered where he had come up with this – he usually wasn't nearly so smooth.

Apparently, all this talk of aunts had piqued Catherine's interest. "Sometimes Aunt Marna tucks me into bed when Father can't be there," she said. "But sometimes it is Aunt Lucy or Aunt Susan or Uncle Edmund."

Kiera smiled and buried her face in the child's golden curls. "I take it that you like having someone to tuck you in, then," she said.

"Yes. I know that I am supposed to be a big girl, but I like someone to talk to me at the end of the day."

Kiera laughed. "How would you like Aunt Kiera to tuck you in tonight?" she asked.

"You?" Catherine asked, and she thought about this – she could be very grave for a little girl. "Okay, but can Father come too?"

Kiera laughed and winked at Peter. "Of course he can."

_Susan_

_"As beautiful as a pure white dove_

_And gentle as a flower_

_She lights my life with her sweet love_

_And I, in turn, adore her,"_

"How was that?" the young man asked her, anxiously.

"Simply dreadful," Susan replied, lightly. "You need to stick to knocking boys off horses with sticks." Quentin was good at jousting, being dramatic and looking pretty, but not much else that Susan could see. He certainly was not the first person to write a poem about Susan, but his poem was likely the worst. Susan felt her face heat up as she imagined the teasing she would endure if Edmund ever heard this particular piece of poetry.

Quentin placed his hand over his heart, dramatically. "My queen has wounded me, greatly," there was general laughter at his posing. "My heart is broken by her cruelty. I think that I shall fling myself from the highest tower in Cair Paravel if she does not make it up to me by allowing me to wear her favor in next week's tournament."

Susan, who knew that he was not even close to as devastated as he pretended, laughed. "Then I am afraid that we shall have to attend your funeral, for, as you know, I have not given any man a favor to wear since I was a young, silly little thing."

Quentin bowed low and kissed her hand. "Then I shall have to work hard to prove myself to the queen of my heart." He smiled at her, but Susan knew that he did not really mean it. When Susan wasn't with her family or attending to manners of state, she was seldom seen with fewer than three men. Countless young knights who had all proclaimed their pure, undying love for Susan at some point.

But it wasn't real. If Susan had asked Quentin to come up to her room, then she knew that it would have greatly upset him. They waited on her, wrote her poems, competed against each other in a number of dangerous games to impress her, gave her presents and generally tried to get Susan to notice them in any way possible, but they were not actually in love with her. It was all a show – courtly love. They were usually about sixteen years old and from rather poor noble families and it was generally understood by everyone that Susan was unattainable.

-- -- --

Ambrosia was splashing about in Susan's bathtub and giggling. "Mummy," she said, in her sweet baby voice, "why are _you _giving me a bath today?"

Susan tried to make her voice stern. "Because you have been into so many messes lately, that your nurse is tired of cleaning you up."

Ambrosia just laughed and splashed a good deal of water out of the tub. Susan sighed.

"She is quite a handful," Lucy laughed fondly from behind Susan. "How did you get so muddy, Brose?" Lucy and Edmund had taken to shortening Ambrosia's name to "Brose" which Susan hated, but she had given up on trying to correct them.

"Gwain pushed me in the mud," she said, seemingly not bothered at all.

"He did?" Susan exclaimed. "He shouldn't have pushed a little girl in the mud."

"Well," Ambrosia admitted, "I did push him in the mud first."

This caused both the women to laugh. "I afraid that she isn't _quite _as ladylike as you yet, Su," Lucy said, good-naturedly.

Susan sighed. "I think that turning a three-year-old into a lady is impossible. Just wait till you have one of your own."

Lucy's flinch was only momentary, but Susan caught it. "With my luck that may never happen," she said, lightly. "I shall be Brose's maiden auntie forever, shan't I dear?" she said, giving Ambrosia a wide which Susan's daughter returned. "Soon, I'll be too old to get married.

"Don't say that, Lucy," said Susan, troubled. It was absurd. "You're still very young, for goodness sakes." Susan was the one who was divorced with two children, after all. Susan was the one who no one would ever want again. "Besides, you are a queen of Narnia. Peter could have you engaged to a dozen different men by tomorrow, if you like."

"I don't want just _anyone_," Lucy said. "And I don't want someone who only wants me because I'm Queen Lucy."

"I know," Susan sighed. "You want love and romance and all that, don't you? Take my advice. Don't get so caught up in that sort of thing that you end up marrying an idiot like I did. Look for someone steady and sweet."

_Edmund_

Edmund was sitting out in the garden with his wife and children. He was holding little Gareth in his arms and Gwain was wandering around, picking up twigs and leafs and flowers and laying them in Edmund's lap or Marna's lap.

Gwain picked a bug up off the ground and brought it to Edmund. "Daddy, what is this?"

"I believe that is a beetle," Edmund told him.

Beside him, he felt Marna jump. "Ew. Edmund, take it away from him."

Edmund laughed. "Why? He's fine."

"It's going to bite him or pinch him," Marna said, edging away from her son as he tried to offer the beetle to her.

Edmund grinned. He wouldn't have expected Marna to have such a girl-like reaction to insects. She was usually so unlike a girl. "I don't think it's that type of insect," he told her.

"Then he'll swallow it," she said.

"He's old enough to know better."

"He's _three_, Edmund," Marna said, glaring at him.

"Fine," Edmund sighed. "Gwain, give the beetle to Daddy." Gwain handed it over and Edmund brought his hand up to his face very quickly and pretended to pop the beetle in his mouth and swallow it. Gwain giggled with delight and even Marna laughed.

Once Gwain wandered a few steps away – likely looking for something disgusting for his father to "eat" – Marna turned to Edmund. "You're very good with them, you know," she said, thoughtfully. "They love you. You are all that Gwain can talk about," Edmund winced a bit at this. "And when you are in Cair, you spend as much time with them as I do."

"Well," Edmund replied, after a long, awkward pause. "I guess I'm just making up for when they are older and I won't get to spend very much time with them."

Marna cocked her head to the side and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Why wouldn't you be able to spend time with them when they are older?"

Edmund sighed and shifted the baby in his lap. "I've decided – I mean, I don't want them to end up like me. Not desiring women, I mean," he shrugged. "So … it is probably better that I keep my distance, don't you think?"

Marna looked at him for a long time. "That is the stupidest thing that you have ever said in you life," she said, finally.

"It is not!" Edmund exclaimed.

"I didn't know that you were planning on abandoning our children as soon as they are old enough to remember you."

He should have known that she would overreact. "I'm not going to _abandon _them," Edmund objected, shifting uncomfortably, "I'm just going to not be around them quite as much."

Marna crossed her arms. Edmund could tell that she was not pleased. At all. "What about me?" she asked, defensively. "I'm not exactly a perfect little lady. Should they stay away from my corrupting influence as well?" Her tone had become very sarcastic. "What if they get the idea that it is acceptable for girls to kiss girls and boys to kiss boys."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "You are a woman. They are boys. Sons. If we'd had daughters …" Edmund stopped because of the look that Marna was giving him. If he had went on, he had a feeling that he would have been smacked.

"If we'd had daughters then _what_?" she asked. "I hope that you aren't suggesting that you'd try to keep me away from my children."

That hit a sore spot. "Why not? I have a son that I've never even seen."

"You aren't even going to pay attention to the ones you've got here," Marna shot back.

Edmund took several deep breaths, trying not to lose his temper any further. "Let's not argue about hypothetical daughters and things we cannot change. I'm just … I _want _to always be there for them. But I also want to be a good father."

Marna started to say something, but Edmund didn't let her.

"You _know _that it is hard," he said. "I mean, I know that you don't believe it is immoral to be the way that we are, but it makes life a lot more difficult. Do you really want them to go through everything that you and I have been through?"

Marna reached down and picked Gwain up. "I don't think that just being around you is going to make them desire men."

Edmund shrugged. "Maybe not. But it could."

Marna sighed. "I guess that it could," she admitted, finally.

_Lucy_

Edmund caught up with her as she was coming back from archery practice.

"You are getting pretty good, you know," he said. "If Su doesn't practice more, then you'll be better than her soon."

"I prefer swordplay," Lucy said to him, a bit out of breath.

"As do I," Edmund said. "You know, it is funny. Peter cannot decide whether to be furious with you for running away or proud of you for how you handled yourself on the front."

Lucy grinned. "I know." Then she frowned. "I really shouldn't have left without telling you and the others. That was selfish. Were you very worried?"

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Of course we were worried. It's a war. But you did leave a note, I suppose. Peter almost sent out search party to fetch you back until I pointed out that this wouldn't exactly send out the most encouraging message to our subjects."

Lucy sighed. "I was silly."

Edmund was quiet for some time. "A letter came for you today. From _Roydon_," he said the name in the type of voice that people used to tease girls about boys that they fancied. Lucy winced. Edmund looked at her. "I know that girls like to play coy, but don't you think it is time that you wrote him back? This is at least the third letter he has sent you since you got back."

Lucy did what she had done the other two times. She adopted a light-hearted attitude. "I want nothing more to do with him," she said.

But later, when she was alone in her room, Lucy read the letter and then crumpled it in her hand. He wanted her back. She sighed and curled up in her bed. Lucy knew that she should write to him now, but she couldn't bare the thought of them being stuck with one another for the rest of their lives when he didn't love her and worse, she _knew _that he didn't love her.

Lucy sat up and slipped out of her dress, uncomfortable. After a while, she looked down at her own form. What was she going to do?

-- -- --

Lucy was having breakfast with her brothers and sister. Or rather, she was pushing fruit around on her plate. She didn't much feel like eating. The other were talking, animatedly, but Lucy had barely said a word.

"Lucy," Susan said to her, finally. "You aren't planning on wearing _that _to the ceremony this afternoon, are you? What happened to that purple dress with the silk?"

"It doesn't fit anymore," Lucy said, her eyes still upon her plate. "Most of my dresses don't. This one was comfortable." She had been dropping hints like this for at least a week, but nobody ever seemed to notice anything amiss.

"You need to stop eating so much bacon," Susan said, looking down at Lucy's plate. She then went back to talking to Peter.

Edmund, however, was looking her up and down and his mouth was slowly drooping further and further open. Well, he _was _always the one who caught on the quickest. His spoon fell out of his hand and clattered on as it hit his plate. "Fuck!" he exclaimed loudly.

Peter and Susan both stopped talking and looked at him. "Ed!" Susan said. "Language."

Edmund ignored them both, still looking at Lucy. Lucy could feel herself turning red and she looked away. "Fuck," Edmund said again. He pointed his finger at Lucy. "She's – she's --" he turned toward back toward her, "you're – you're --" he seemed to realize that perhaps he shouldn't give her away and his mouth snapped shut, abruptly.

"I'm pregnant," Lucy said, sounding as firm as she could.

There was a moment of dead silence and then everyone was talking at once, very loudly, and Lucy couldn't make out anything that was said. After awhile Peter yelled out, "Quiet, quiet!" and they all stopped talking.

"You're pregnant?" he asked her, disbelievingly, but before she could reply he asked, "Who's the father?"

Lucy shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't --" Peter's stopped, his face turned red and Lucy could tell that he was trying very hard not to yell.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know you're upset."

Susan reached forward and brushed a slip of hair out of Lucy's face. "Is the father Roydon?" she asked. "Surely, it must be."

Lucy sighed. "No," she said. Lucy hardly ever told lies and the result was that on the rare occasion that she _did_ and did so firmly, people tended to believe her. She knew that as soon as she gave a name, the others would start trying to talk her into marrying him and she couldn't marry Roydon. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well," Peter said, quietly, "you'll have to get married. If you don't want the father, then I suppose that we will have to find someone else. As you are having a baby," he winced as though it pained him to say it, "your options will be limited, but there must be _someone _who would be willing to marry a queen of Narnia."

"No," Lucy shook her head, adamantly, "I don't want to marry some man who only wants me because I'm Queen Lucy."

"She isn't all that likely to get a good type that way, Peter," Susan put in.

"I know she isn't," Peter snapped. "But she doesn't have any other choice."

Susan put a calming hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes girls who can't get married go off to the country somewhere to have their babies in secret. Maybe she would rather do that."

"No!" Lucy said, indignantly.

"She would never be able to see her baby that way," Peter objected.

"Well," Susan reasoned, "she wouldn't be able to see it as often as if she married and kept it near her, but it's not as though she couldn't make visits."

"What about – I mean don't women sometimes take some sort of drug or potion," said Edmund, who had been quiet until this point. "To – you know – get rid of it?"

They all looked at him in shocked horror.

"Are you mad?" Peter asked.

"What?" Edmund said defensively. "I wasn't the one telling her that she had to marry some idiot or hide herself away in a cave for the next year."

"Enough," Lucy said, waving her hands. "It's too late for that sort of thing and anyway, I'm not going to do any of those things. I'm going to just have it and keep it."

They were all silent for a moment. Then Susan gave her a consoling look. "Lucy, you have to realize that you can't do that. You can't have a baby without being married. It simply isn't done."

"Why not?" Edmund asked. "You have babies and you're not married."

"I'm divorced," Susan snapped.

"You have to realize," Peter said, looking Lucy in the eye for the first time, "that you are not a normal person. You are a queen. You have obligations. What will we tell our subjects?"

"The Narnian creatures love Lucy so much that they'll stand by her no matter what," said Edmund, who now appeared to be on her side. "They don't care as much about things like marriage and being proper, anyway. The humans will just have to get used to it. They don't make up the greater share of the population anyway."

"And you are fine with people knowing that the baby was conceived when you weren't married?" Susan asked. "You know that there are people who would say absolutely horrid things about you, don't you dear? They'd call you names. And I know that you aren't used to being called names like that."

"They are going to know anyway," Edmund told her. "If she does what you or Peter suggests. If she marries – well, most people can count. If she hides she'd probably have a better chance of not being found out, but I think it would happen anyway. If she were a man, she _might _be able to keep a baby secret, but as she's a women it is not likely."

"Suspecting, even strongly suspecting is not knowing," Susan pointed out.

"Hold on a minute," said Peter who had been thinking. "What did you mean earlier when you said 'it is too late for that sort of thing'? How far along are you?"

Lucy winced and didn't answer for a good long time. She looked out the window. "Five months, approaching six."

"_Six months_," Peter said, loudly.

"Why didn't you tell us before now?" Edmund asked. "It isn't as though waiting would make anything better."

Lucy thought about this for a moment. Why _hadn't _she told them? "I guess – I guess that I wasn't sure what I was going to do yet and I didn't want everyone else to decide for me. But now I am sure. I know that it will be hard, but I don't know what else to do. I can't picture myself wanting to give up the baby once it is born and I've held it and all that. I can't marry the father – it just wouldn't be right. I won't marry anyone else."

Peter crossed his arms. "So you don't need our advice, at all? You are just telling us what you are going to do and we'll have to like it."

Lucy bit her lip. "I suppose so," she said, in wonderment, for this was the first time that she had realized this herself.

-- -- --

Later, when Lucy was in her room, sitting at her window seat, Susan found her. "Lucy," Susan said, sitting down beside her. "How are you feeling?"

Lucy sighed and picked at her dress. "Not so good. Peter hates me."

Susan put her arm around her sister. "He doesn't hate you. Why? Did he say something to you?"

Lucy bit her lip. "No. But did you see the look on his face? I know that you must have talked to him after I left. What did he say?"

Lucy watched Susan's face fall and saw the look that her sister adopted when she was trying to think of the most tactful way to phrase something. "He does hate me," Lucy said, and for the first time, her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, no! No, no, no," Susan said. "You've always been his favorite, you know --"

"Until now," Lucy said, trying very hard not to cry.

"Let me finish!" Susan exclaimed. "You've always been his favorite, but he's always watched after all of us because he's the eldest. I know a bit about what that is like because I had to take care of you and Edmund, but Peter has always born the brunt of the responsibility. You understand that?"

Lucy nodded.

"Well, you were always – good," Susan went on. "You were good little Lucy and he never thought that he would have to save you from yourself the way that he is always trying to do with Edmund and I. So now, I think he is angry with _himself_ because he wasn't paying enough attention and let you run off to some battle and then – well – this. Don't be surprised if he watches you with hawk's eyes from now on."

Lucy frowned. She had seen the way that Peter would question Edmund and Susan. Where were you? Who were you with? Questions almost everyday, all done with the smallest of frowns that meant abject disapproval. Lucy didn't like the thought that she was about to get a taste of it. Of course, she wasn't planning on sneaking strange men up to her room as Susan had been apt to do at one time.

"Lu," Susan said, filling in the silence, "you know that there are certain potions that a woman can take to keep from getting pregnant. I could have showed you which ones. Why did you not come to me? I wouldn't have been angry?"

Lucy sighed, thinking back on that one night with Roydon and feeling miserable. "It was a – er – rather spontaneous event," she could feel herself blushing. "It wasn't as though I was planning for it to happen."

"Oh, I see," Susan said. "That happens to a lot of girls, but you should be more careful. Do you mean to say that it was only one time, though?"

Lucy groaned and threw her head back in frustration. "Yes," she said. "How many girls get pregnant during the first time? I must be the unluckiest woman alive!"

Susan actually smiled. "I think you will feel differently when your baby takes it's first steps. If you are almost six months, then we need to start having clothes made. And arrangements for the birthing. And a cradle. And --" Susan was off, making such a dizzying array of suggestions and chores that Lucy could barely keep up.


End file.
